o0 Flesh and Steel 0o
by SpazKit
Summary: Before the fall of Dalmasca... These are the journals of a newly apprenticed judge magister. Judges, Solidors, Ffamran. The balance of power between gods and man shift and Ivalice will not be the same.
1. Chapter 1

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**Flesh and Steel**

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**Fall 62nd, 701ov**

Today has been quite the day.

There were seventeen of us with candidacy. We stood still and stiff before the magisters, and I could swear the metal was heavier on my shoulders today than normal.

I was nervous. Its not everyday you stood in Lord Gramis's audience chambers. I've seen him before, of course. But he was right there, looking over the paperwork and parchment, potentially detailing my life.

The Judge Magisters were standing parallel to us, facing us. I found my face focused on Judge Drace. I knew she must have already discussed us with the emperor. I wondered if she favored me. I know that she was friends with my father, long ago.

"So, you stand before me today," Gramis began, "looking for an opportunity to better serve this great country." He paused, setting the parchment down. "I am pleased with this class of lesser judges. You have proven yourself admirable of this council. However – the position of Judge Magister is meant for only one of you."

He spoke some more of honor and nobility, but my eyes were focused to the wall and I was distracted by the sweat dripping down my neck.

So, when he spoke my name, I was not prepared.

He told me to step forward, and I did. And I felt utterly alone, even though I was but 2 feet away from my rank of fellow judges.

"Naiyel Benagaski, only surviving daughter of Fenier Benagaski," his voice boomed, "I, along with this council, have chosen you to apprentice to the position of Judge Magister of this Archadian Empire."

You spend all your time dreaming of such words – and yet, when they come, you don't know what to feel. I certainly didn't.

Still don't.

You have to ask yourself – why do you do what you do? Did I always want to be a judge, like my father? No – I wanted to design buildings, I wanted to draw armory, I wanted to create. But when he died… all that mattered was his remembrance. And the best way to remember my father is to carry his name. As long as I serve the empire – his deeds with not be forgotten. Its all that matters.

I miss him.

And it is with that strength, that I serve the empire. It feels good to think that what I am doing now, he did once too.

And as Gramis stood before me, just as he must have stood before my father, I am able to go forward. He did this. I can do this.

The other lesser judges filed out of the room, and I felt… strangely alone. I felt small before the huge armor, the towering weapons and the commanding form that is the emperor.

"You will be assigned a Magister Judge to teach you the responsibilities this position requires. If you are successful, you will then be made a Magister yourself," Gramis stated, his brows drawn tight in sincerity. "As of now, you discard your given name," he said, which actually bothered me – "and in honor of your late father, I name you Judge Feneris."

And it was then, that I was hit with this – this pride.

Gods, above.

And then, the really interesting part of this evening happened.

I was so looking forward to be paired with Judge Drace. I respect her so – her strength, her nobility. Already, visions of us walking the great halls of the palace together, discussing politics, senate hearings, court dates, it was all flowing through my head –

"I am appointing you to Judge Magister Gabranth for your tutelage. You will begin immediately."

I think I cut my jaw when it fell and smashed into the inner part of my helm.

"My lord – I thought, I thought - Judge Drace-"

"Appreciated, but I have other duties to attend to, Judge Feneris," she said to me, striding past me and heading for the entrance. I watched her go, a little dumbfounded.

"Yes, while Drace usually takes the initiates and trains them, I have placed her directly in charge of protecting my youngest son, Larsa. Thus – Gabranth will be your teacher."

And it was then that I turned to face him, Gabranth. His helm is positively intimidating. He was probably offended that I jumped at Drace, and not him as my mentor, and I prayed he was not angry with me. He was deathly still, hardly moving. Hardly seemed human at all.

Judge Gabranth is the newest of the Magisters, trained under Judge Zargabaath a few years ago. Not much was known about him, save for his brutality in the court room, his success in the field of dominating lesser countries and that no one had ever seen him without his helm

And suddenly, I wasn't so sure about all this.

I'm still not.

"Come," he commanded smoothly, the voice bouncing inside his helm, and began towards the door at a brisk pace. I practically fled after him.

He took me to the upper tiers of the palace, climbing the steep stairs at record pace. I struggled to quiet my breathing when he paused outside an unmarked door. He touched a series of symbols beside it, and it slid open.

"These are your quarters," he said. "My own are directly down the hall, as are all the Judge Magister's. Your com has been set with them." He ducked, expertly avoiding the doorframe, and entered what would be my new living space. It was small, but a single – much better than the dorm like quarters the lesser Judges were accommodated. A small box of my belongings had already been deposited on the counter.

"The evening is yours," he stated coldly. "I will be awaiting your presence in the grand court tomorrow at 7am. I expect prompt response, and your full attention at all times." And with that, he strode out of my evening.

I wonder if Gabranth is pleased at receiving me as an apprentice. Somehow, I just don't get that vibe. I wish again that I had been gifted with Judge Drace, but there is nothing I can do now.

I miss my father.

Tomorrow, we will see where this all leads me.

**Fall 66th 701ov**

Wow I can't feel my limbs. That means writing is most difficult. This is brutal –

**Fall 67th 701ov**

Today, I woke at 5:30am. Made myself some blackbean coffee. Showered. Was appalled at how many bruises mar my figure. Laughed. And went to work.

I met with Gabranth in the gyms. He seems to lavish my silent hatred of morning. I've never been a morning person.

We spared until roughly 10 am. He insists on doing all activities in armor. I guess this makes sense. I am _not_ used to beating the snot out of people wearing armor. It really tires me. That, and Gabranth is far stronger than I.

His blows are strong and measured. We're working with my defense first. And it's hard to defend myself against a man of his talents. Thus I am bruised and battered before noon even comes, a sweating messy ball of heaving metal on the ground, usually.

Gabranth left for the showers and left me that way today. Hell, I might have had broken ribs for all he knew, but he just left. It kind of irked me.

I must say, I enjoy lunch most of my day. Magisters have a special table in the southern café, and Gabranth usually takes us around the same time Drace is there. I actually managed to have a semi-intelligent conversation with her today, concerning foreign policy. She seemed to respect my input and I left the table feeling giddy. Talking to one of your idols does that to you.

Plus – the magisters take off their helms to eat. It just seems like, a more human interaction to me and I greatly relish it. I saw Gabranth's face for the first time – its not what I imagined. His eyes are piercing, always in thought. I only held his gaze for a moment before I could hardly stand it. Drace was much more comfortable without her helm, and I enjoy watching her face animate as she discusses policy with Zargabaath.

After lunch, we go to the courts sector. We have rounds, and each Judge Magister has a set of sessions to sit in upon, make judgments, etc. Gabranth is utterly terrifying on the podium – gods know, I wouldn't want to be the one standing before his judgment.

Which, essentially, is what I am. He judges my every movement. That is his job, after all. He doesn't seem to enjoy it terribly, though I sense he gets some satisfaction of beating the hell out of me in the mornings.

Again, I wish I was Drace's.

I digress –

The afternoons are filled with politics and court dates. Dinner is spent separately – I in my quarters, swallowing potions like water to ease my sore muscles and getting the hell out of that armor, and he doing whatever it is he does with his spare time. Right now, I'm writing this entry.

Tonight, he said we are doing something "Special". I don't know if he means special, as in fun, or special, I'm going to have more bruises. Time will tell.

**Fall 68th 701ov**

Gabranth took us to the royal craftsman, Heralim, last night. This is the man who forges the helms and suits of armor for the judges. The most pleasant part of this, was that Heralim asked me what kind of design I wanted. I asked him if I could think about it and get some ideas back to him, and he was very much interested in the idea of me designing my own helm.

So, I'm taking a break from that right now during my dinner hour. Thus far, I have three designs I like. I'm leaning towards the last of them I've come up with – it has kind of a beak, like a falcon or hawk, and the eyes are deep set. Wing-like ears extend of the sides vertically and provide balance for the front. I would prefer it made out of a light metal alloy. I like being able to move and see. I really dislike not having any peripheral vision, as with the helm I have now. Gabranth always seems to have at me during spar, especially when I can't _see_ him with my helm. So I've designed this one with wider eye slits.

This has probably been the most fun I've had in ages, making this design.

**Fall 71st 701ov**

Today was a tough workout. I'm still terribly sore, but the mornings aren't as rough as they were say, a week ago. There was a particularly irritating elderly man in courts today, pressing charges against a guard who apparently stiffed him at a local diner. The sound of his voice really grated on my nerves. I think Gabranth felt the same way; we seemed to twitch in unison.

And at noon today! I received my new helm and wore it for the first time. I arrived at lunch a little late, holding my back straight and feeling like a new judge. Drace was very impressed with my design, and gave me praise. I was grinning like a loon underneath. She and I discussed how I came up with the look, and as I was telling her how I saw some statues with similar falcon design in lower Archades a few years ago, I think I felt Gabranth's gaze on me a bit more than usual. He didn't say anything about the helm at lunch, but before we just parted for dinner, he paused before leaving me at my door, and told me it suited me well.

I think it's the first pleasant thing he's said to me thus far.

**Fall 74h 701ov**

Gods above, this week has been insane. I had to go to the physician this morning, as I suffered a dislocated arm when Gabranth used a new offensive technique on me. I felt my cheeks burn in shame. I know I should not expect to be so talented as he is yet, but I still dislike failure! Gabranth dropped me off in the healers wing and went about his business. He didn't say anything offensive, however. I suppose I should be thankful for small favors.

I didn't talk much at lunch today, since Ghis was fuming about some issue with his infantry and seemed ever on the warpath. I choose my battles wisely – no reason to distract from his tangent.

Drace asked about my injury and I half glared at Gabranth for telling her about it. I shrugged it off, and how stupid of me to shrug it was, since that hurt in itself. She laughed at me, and it was good to grin like an idiot at her. But most shocking of all, Gabranth smirked – honest to gods smirked – and I felt sincerely comfortable at that table for the first time.

We are guarding Lord Larsa tonight at a play. It will be my first time seeing the young lord. I hope all goes well.

**Fall 80th 701ov**

I know it is inappropriate for me to say this aloud, so I shall write it down.

Lord Larsa – is adorable.

He almost changes my opinion of children – perhaps they are not all irritating, annoying, loud, smelly little creatures.

Only seven years old, he did not seem to mind the ferocious and intimidating giants in armor parading him around. Most amazingly mannered, he approached me at the intermission of the play, and asked to touch my helm. I lifted him to my lap, and he ran a small finger down each crevice, finally stating that he thought me most noble, reminding him of an ancient god of storm and winds. How does a seven year old _know_ these kinds of things? _I_ am not that well versed in history.

He chose my lap as his chair for the rest of the play. He paid acute attention for the most part, but lapsed for a bit, and boldly reached over to Gabranth next to me, and started fiddling with the man's hand guards.

It was actually… really touching. Gabranth said nothing, and endured it. I found the whole ordeal just homely.

The morning sparing is getting easier as well. Gabranth does not seem as vicious, and we have moved on to my offensive training (thank the gods.) My soreness is a constant companion, but now it does not seem to bother me every second of every day. My endurance grows – no longer do I lay in a jumbled heap of exhaustion; now Gabranth and I walk together off the sparing floor; even if I'm heaving and gasping for air.

I miss my father, tonight. I made myself a quick dinner of noodles and fish, and listened to some quiet music. He and I used to have these kinds of meals all the time.

I wonder if he would be proud of me?

**Fall 84th 701ov**

I didn't get knocked over _once_ today in sparing. I was noticeably giddy at lunch today, Drace commented with amusement. Gabranth said nothing, but that's fine with me. I feel like flying, I am improving!!!

**Fall 85th 701ov**

Oh gods, I got knocked over today in sparing. Remind me not to be giddy at lunch from now on. My rump hurts, my back hurts. My arms hurt and some unknown organ hurts in my side. Apparently, Gabranth has some pride. I should've seen this coming.

**Winter 2nd 702ov**

Drace stopped at my unit for dinner, tonight. It was fantastic. I was a trifle nervous, and prepared a stew of beefs and vegetables, with freshly baked rolls. I haven't baked in a long time, since my father died, and it was pleasant.

We spent most of the conversation discussing new Techniques and Gambits, so I guess you could call it a business meal. But Drace removed her armor from waist up. I took this as her physically letting down some of her guard.

I'm glad she likes me.

I told her, tonight, that I wished she was my mentor. It just rather – slipped out. Seconds afterward, I apparently looked stricken when I realized that I said it _aloud. _

She smiled softly, and said she was flattered.

"Do you despise Gabranth so much?" she asked.

"No, not at all my lord," I stuttered. "I simply wish that it was you who I got to spend more time with."

She laughed at me. "Long has it been since I've heard those words. However – you should know that Gabranth is warming up to you. He speaks more of your progress now at dinner than of politics. You will be well received – perhaps it just takes time."

I gaped at her. I had no idea. I think that was her point, for she smirked, and made her leave for the evening work and Lord Larsa.

**Winter 6th 702ov**

Tomorrow we are going out of Archades for my first out of state business, a proceeding in a medium sized city named Miercus, much to the north. Gabranth says… there is a possibility we may be directly involved in battle if the discussions do not go well. I'm exhilarated to prove myself, terrified of battle, and excited to be leaving the capitol on ship. It's been a long time since I've been on an airship! But I am also nervous we will not be able to stop the coming civil war. I wonder if the Empire plans to evade the war by simply conquring them. Perhaps it would be better for them…? This is what Lord Gramis says.

My birthday is also tomorrow. I will be 24. I don't think anyone knows – and I would assume Gabranth would have me keep it to myself.

It seems to me that my mentor loves his armor so – When his helm is off, he seems to feel almost exposed. I relish the humanity of it, while it seems to put him ill at ease. I don't feel particularly comfortable talking with him about life issues. Drace is much better for these things. I wonder what could have happened to him to cherish his armor so? Its as if his skin is made of steel, and not flesh.

I must rest now – tomorrow will be most chaotic.

I have a twinge of discomfort when I think of us standing there, judges, between to feuding sides… I hope nothing ill fated is to become us.

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I am enjoying writing this - leave me feedback, tell me what you think and what you'd like to see :) 


	2. Chapter 2

**Winter 10th 702ov**

I finally have some time to write in this, and am conscious enough to do it. I believe Gabranth asleep – I'm not close enough to hear his breathing, but his chin is dipped low in his helm and he's not talking. We are aboard the Valefore, headed home.

These past days have been hell.

I'm just so exhausted, forgive me.

We arrived as scheduled. We spent a few days in preliminary session. The court was obscenely loud and disrespectful to us, to each other, just horrific. It was cold, huge windows allowing gusts of powerful and frigid wind into the city hall. It made the armor like ice, and it took considerable effort not to visibly shiver in front of the locals.

One side of the tension, the Kamak, wanted control of all the local croplands since it was their "birthright." The other side, the Kamun, whom look exactly the same to me, save for wearing brighter clothing, claim the land as theirs since they bought the rights to the whole area.

There was no consoling either side. It as suggested that the Empire take the province as one of their own, for stability's sake, and all hell broke loose. Both sides of the courtroom just went _off_, swords, guns, axes, and even pitchforks.

It was Gabranth, Ghis, and I, against about three hundred people on either side.

Terrifying.

It just got so silent. The clang of metal and screams of the dying just ceased and a few minutes, and everything seemed to be in slow motion.

I got separated from Gabranth and Ghis.

I remember a flash of metal coming down on my helm –

And I remember falling.

And I remember thinking I was going to die in this godsforsaken place.

And then things get really fuzzy. But I heard my name – And I saw Gabranth, hacking away at those around me.

"Get up, Feneris! Get _up!"_

He grabbed my wrist and hauled me upwards like a sack of meat. I wobbled, and he supported me with one arm and defended us with the other. I must have been useless, I can't even remember how we got upstairs to the second tier of the bloodied courtroom.

I sagged against him, our metals grating. We tried to escape, only to be cornered in the upper balcony.

"I- I'm sorry," I gasped, and tasted something metallic in my mouth, smelled it in my nose.

"Silence," he hissed, "And pay attention to the task at hand! Raise your sword if you can, if not, then do not hinder me," he growled, glaring at the oncoming herd of angry townspeople.

"Go –" I told him, "Get out of here – while you can, I – I don't want you to die because of -"

His helm turned to me and he did a double take, looking down. I looked down as well, and saw a stream of red leaking out from under my own helm, onto the intricate designs of my chest plate. He grunted, and gripped my opposite shoulder more tightly, raising his blade.

"Silence," he grunted and turned to face the onslaught.

And then, the Gods decided to favor us with the Archadian Airship Valefore, along with several hundred troops.

The mass of people dissipated in terror, the armored soldiers slaying anyone in their path.

"Come on," Gabranth huffed, half dragging me across the abandoned balcony.

"Wait –" I breathed, suddenly short of breath. "Wait – my lord – "

And that's all I remember.

I have vague remembrance of waking up, slumped against the side of a building. It was snowing, but I couldn't feel it. The flicker of firelight was comforting, until my sluggish mind realized it was coming from a building across the road. I saw the horns of Gabranth's helm, floating in the smoke and snow. And then, it was dark again.

I awoke again to howling wind and the clanking of metal. I was laid on a creaky old mattress in a darkened room, the cracked door blindingly bright and loud with the sounds of a kitchen.

I moaned, bringing a heavy limb up to my head, fingers brushing cloth on my brow.

"Don't touch," a smooth accented voice said from my right. An Archadian woman was standing beside me, pouring a glass of water mixed with something else. "You sustained a deep face wound. Drink this," she said.

I drank it, and soon after fell into a deep slumber.

When I woke again, it was blindingly bright in the morning sun, Ghis was shaking my shoulder impassively. I leaned on him heavily as we made our way to the Valefore, as much as I disliked to. I sat heavily beside Gabranth. I was not wearing my armor, and felt small against his larger frame.

"Your helm was damaged, ironically, in the same place your head was," he said conversationally, and I struggled to focus on him with my debilitating headache. He was holding the armor on his lap. A gruesome gash slit the bird's brow on the right side, trailing from brow down to cheek bone.

"We can get it repaired-"

"No," I said weakly. "I can only assume that I will bear that same scar on my face. It would be fitting to bear it on my helm as well." I sighed, feeling lightheaded again. Gabranth said nothing, but placed a hand on the top of the mask and absently rubbed it with his thumb.

"Are we going home now?" I asked, closing my exposed eye, the world starting to get fuzzy again.

"Nay, we are stopping midland first for supplies and to pick up a dignitary, but after, yes. We'll be back in the capitol late tonight."

I nodded, and hissed, the motion hurting.

I felt motion beside me, and I opened my eye blearily to see Gabranth removing his helm. He set both of ours on the floor at our feet, and I met his gaze. His eyes were piercing blue as the morning sun filtered through the cabin window. He didn't say anything, but we looked at me intently. I would have asked him what he was thinking, but the pain and weight of my head seemed too much.

I felt the vibrations of the engine starting up as I drifted off to sleep.

I woke a few hours ago, and it was dark. We must have already stopped in the mainland, and are on our way home now. Gabranth's helm is back on, and he is sitting on the other side of the cabin, assumedly sleeping.

I almost died this week.

I just feel so numb to it.

My face is scarred for life, most likely. I really don't care, since I'll be spending most of my time in a suit of armor anyway.

But gods, I almost _died._

These weeks have been hard, but I never feared for my life before.

I wonder if I'll follow in my father's footsteps and die in battle, too.

I am very tired now – I need to rest.

**Winter 14th 702ov**

I took a few days to recover. I'm without bandaging now, and a nasty red track mars my face.

I really don't care. Who do I have to impress anyway?

I don't have to go to morning sparing for another three days. I have been sleeping in, and taking the extra time to do some sketching.

I really, really miss my dad.

**Winter 24th 702ov**

Tomorrow we are accompanying Lord Gramis and his four sons for the annual Winter's fest parade downtown. I am accompanying Lord Larsa along with Gabranth.

I had dinner with Drace again last night, only Gabranth also chose to join us. It was all of us in my little kitchen, helms off, eating my mom's recipe grilled behemoth spice chicken. It was the first time I've smiled since the battle. Gabranth took his first bite, and sneezed and coughed for five minutes while Drace's barks of laughter echoed in the tiny space.

We were granted the evening off, so Drace bought over this ancient bottle of Dalmascan Rum and it was just the _end_ of us. We popped the cork after dinner, and shared the _entire_ bottle between the three of us. Buy the end of the evening, I could not longer feel the burn of my face wound, I had my sketch book out and I was sharing it with my peers, Gabranth was smiling more than I had _ever_ seen, and Drace was drawling about how I should redesign the Leviathen with pink trim just to spite Ghis. At the time, this was outrageously funny, and we all slumped over like loons laughing. Drace later decided to drunkenly sing the Archadian anthem with a surprisingly well-refined voice, while Gabranth and I observed from the couch. I was laughing, and so was he. I leaned forward, gently pressing a hand to my numb forehead. Gabranth rested a heavy hand on my back and rubbed drunkenly as Drace continued into the second chorus. It felt good. Exhaustion took the best of me, and I believe I passed out around midnight to Drace and Gabranth arguing about something or other.

I woke this morning with a splitting headache, in my own bed, my torso armor off. I could tell in the morning spar, I was not the only with suffering a hangover.

"Perhaps… perhaps we should end a little early today," Gabranth suggested, steadying himself with his sword.

"I concur wholeheartedly my lord, " I responded enthusiastically. I paused, hesitant, and then asked –

"Perhaps we could visit Larsa?"

Gabranth cocked his head, his helm revealing no emotion.

"I don't see why not."

Larsa was being tutored when we approached the Solidor Wing. His eyes lit up when he saw us. Gabranth removed his helm, but I swallowed and kept mine on, insecure with my injury.

"Lord Judges!" He exclaimed, scampering over to us. It never ceases to amaze me how he just accepts us as people, and not towering hulking iron monsters that would terrify normal children. He skidded over to Gabranth. Gabranth knelt, and Larsa tried valiantly to wrap his arms around the armored giant. The young liege then turned to me, and froze, gasping.

"Lord Feneris, what happened to your face?" he asked, stricken. I knelt, and he reached a shaky hand to the beak, running a finger along the gash.

"I met up with a bad crown, highness. Not to worry, I'm alright."

He gave a mighty frown, and grabbed my hand.

"I swear it! I shall take my sword, and cut them down!"

I chuckled.

"At seven years old? Pray not, my lord! You must be at _least_ eight years to slay enemies of the empire," I told him.

We spent the rest of the morning with the young lord. The more time I spend with him, the more I like him.

I look forward to tomorrow, and the parade.


	3. Chapter 3

**o0 Flesh and Steel 0o**

**Winter 32nd 702ov**

Things are well. I am working so much – the days seem eternally long, as the work of a Judge is never just, _done._ I look forward to the moments where I can sit and write in this, or draw, or have a conversation with Drace.

I have been assigned to protect Rickard Solidor this week during his travels to the city of Brunbakkar, north of the old Republic of Landis. Gabranth has assigned this task to me, while he will remain behind and stay with the other three brothers. There was something in his voice when he gave me the assignment, something I can't really place.

Our training has become a pleasant routine now, as opposed to the constant abuse I felt I took in the beginning. As time passes, I slowly learn more about my mentor.

Gabranth is one who enjoys his mask – He takes strength from being made of iron, and enjoys abandoning his humanity to serve his empire. I am still on the proverbial fence – I want to serve, but I still wish to hold on to what makes me, me. At night, I light a candle and I pour out my ideas and emotions to parchment. I have begun wondering what he does at night. Does he keep that armor on, emotionally?

**Winter 37th 702ov**

Its been and interesting week. I am still in Brunbakkar, and I'm stealing a moment to myself to write.

I don't even know how to say this – but I think I have a crush on Rickard Solidor. How quaint.

His hair is dark as midnight, but cropped short, chops extending down to his chin. His eyes are a dark, piercing blue in contrast with his brother's. He noticed me looking at them one night during the council's recess and he laughed, telling me he was the most like his mother in all the family.

His soft eyes and quiet smile seem to just lure me out of my armor. He demands I speak with him face to face, so that he might "see my eyes, and not those of a fearsome bird". (my helm)

These days have been full of negotiations. Brunbakkar is located beside the sea, and to the north lays vast mountains rich with ore and mineral. While we do not occupy Brunbakkar, Rickard tells me that his father will not negotiate for long, and if the small country does not agree to trade on the Empire's terms, then his father might invade. Rickard does not want this – and I know its true. His hands clench as he reads the parchments his father sends and his eyes burn. He genuinely seems to care about the lives of others beyond his kingdom.

I think that's why I like him so. That, and he is handsome, intelligent, and enjoys dinner conversation. What's not to enjoy?

**Winter 39th 702ov**

I have returned to Archades. Rickard and his brother have been constantly battling the senate. House Solidor is divided – Vayne and Gramis wish to occupy the remaining territories and countries to the north, while Rickard and Issaic appeal to the "better nature" of Archades.

It has been a week since I've seen Gabranth. We did not spar this morning. I arrived on time to find him standing still, posture stiff. He looked to me, and said,

"Let us walk the gardens."

Odd.

I walked beside him for roughly twenty minutes, the sky overcast and the gardens misty, the palace walls dimmed, as the gardens reside on the forty eighth floor, and it seemed the clouds themselves were swallowing us.

Finally, we paused, and he asked me how my trip went. I relayed my information to him, wondering why he was asking me this. Surely he was informed of the negotiations as soon as the emperor himself.

"Drace and I spent the evening with Larsa last night," he replied, totally off topic as he sank heavily to a stone bench. His voice seemed lackluster and dull, without its normal intensity. "We watched an opera in the blue sector."

"Oh?" I asked, sitting beside him on the garden bench, our armor touching at the knee. "Did he enjoy it?"

"Whole heartedly," he replied while rubbing his hands together.

And then… there was silence. The sound of the airtrams floated through the foggy air and the brush of the wind in the trees held no sway against our armor.

"My lord," I started, softly, "Are you alright?"

He didn't say anything for a moment. I heard the soft intake of breath, as if he was to speak, but he must have decided against it and silence took us again. He glanced up, as did I, and we saw Vayne Solidor strolling towards us.

"Judge Gabrnath," he drawled in his smooth, aristocratic voice, "My father requires you in the grand hall. And Judge Feneris," he paused, voice changing to something a little darker, "My brothers request your presence for Larsa's lunch hour."

It didn't occur to me until later how odd it was that a Solidor was strolling the gardens and delivering petty messages, instead of a guard.

**Winter 43rd 702ov**

My apologies on my lack of writing – I have been so terribly busy these past days… and too distraught to really write, anyway. I think… I think I will be writing more often. I need this expression, this confession, more than I originally realized. I need this friend. Perhaps, what is left of my humanity will be stored in these pages, so I can remain nothing more than a judge during the day.

Three days ago, all hell broke loose in Archades. The night prior to the chaos, I was tossing and turning, when my door flew open and the sound of metal clanged into my room. I started and leaned forward in bed.

"Get up, Feneris," my master hissed, his form casting disturbing shadows from the lit hallway and into my room. I scrambled, clad in shorts and an old torn shirt.

"What is it?" I croaked, automatically pulling on the stiff leather breeches over my bruised knees.

"We are required by the emperor, immediately," Gabranth answered, roughly attaching my armor to my legs as I fastened the buckles on my leather under garb. With his help, I was dressed within minutes, though the heavy armor made me dizzy with its weight, and my lack of rest. He grabbed my sword, leaned up upon my wall, and shoved it in my direction while gliding out the door.

"What has happened?" I asked lowly, as Gabranth barged through the mass of people who surrounded the outer wing of the Solidor residence. He pushed his way through without speaking, a growl on his lips as an unfortunate guard was unable to get out of the towering judge's way in time, and was thrown to the wall with a thud.

I followed Gabranth into the Solidor Wing with a sour sense of foreboding in my belly. As we entered the common room, the stench of blood wafted through my helm and I fought the urge to sicken.

Gramis was yelling and waving his arms, his nightshirts starkly clean in the bloodied room. Vayne was silent, but eyes narrowed and focused, and then I saw the corpses.

Issaic and Rickard Solidor lay murdered, their bodies broken, their dark hair glistening with thickening blood; bodies contorted in an eerie and inhuman way, eyes open and staring at the ornately decorated ceiling. One pair of dark blue, frowning in some spent emotion, one pair of brown, open wide with fear.

"Bring that senator in here, now!" Gramis roared, shaking with fury.

Ghis and Bergin each had the arm of a wirey old man as they drug him into the fray. His fast panting rasped from his lips. They deposited him in a heap at the emperors knees, ripping part of his over shirt and throwing him to the ground.

"I- I swear it m-milord, tis' not what it seems –"

"Silence!" Gramis hissed. "My own Vayne, my own blood, saw you standing over their bodies! Why would you murder my own, my sons? My blood? This country's blood? Have – Have you no pride, no-"

"T'wasn't me!" The man cried, his body trembling. "I found them like this, I swear it!"

And it was at this point, that something struck me as odd. Just… just the look in Vayne's eyes. It seemed… unnatural. Calm. Wrong. And then, those eyes turned to me.

And I felt cold inside.

Gramis was inconsolable, waving his arms wildly above his head. It was just insanity. Time seemed to just blur together, the scenario, it seemed so – so surreal. And all the while, I felt, for the first time as a judge, so out of place. I felt like one of my black and white sketches standing in a room of vibrant color. I felt… wrong. Strong, comforting, intelligent, compassionate Rickard… lying there, just… just gone…

But gods, it got worse. So much worse.

Because it was at this point, Vayne suggested that, in light of the senators guilt, (I didn't… believe him… why didn't I believe him? He is my lord prince -) And that he should be executed on the spot –

And Vayne decided it was ME who should "crush the murderer of his beloved brothers."

I started when Vayne made the suggestion. I cringed under the wild gaze of Gramis.

"Yes, yes – Daughter of Benegaski, you shall right this terrible, terrible wrong –"

And what else can I do? I was helpless. My heart screams to me – this is wrong, terribly wrong, my perception tells me this man is innocent – but my father's name in question – before Gramis –

I felt myself begin to shake.

"Well, young Judge?" Vayne asked lightly, as if speaking of a simple game, not a man's life. "We haven't got all day for you to decide your loyalty."

Gods, forgive me.

I drew my blade, the intricate designs of falcons seeming like birds of unjustly death to me. The senator begged and begged, sweat dripping down his face as he knelt there in a pathetic heap on the floor.

It was as if I stepped out of my body. I watched this fearsome judge, carved of iron and leather, sweat, and now tears, lift her blade, and cut down what I sensed to be an innocent man. His head splatted and rolled to the floor, cleanly cut, and Vayne's expression, his small creasing of the eyes, never changed.

I don't have a lot of memory after that. I believe I was trying valiantly not to throw up.

Later, much later, after the arraignments for the funeral had been set, after Larsa was curled up, asleep in bed with Drace his all holy protector at his side, and probably not leaving anytime soon – after the body of the slain senator was taken to wherever they would curse his name –

I stumbled weakly to the gym showers. It was dark, it had to be early in the morning, late in the night. I slammed the main lights off with my fist, my hand guard nearly shattering the machine. Lights from the floor to prevent slipping and accidents cast an eerie glow to the showers and I felt like some kind of monster, lurking in the dark.

I murdered a man tonight for a crime, that I don't think he committed. Could Vayne have gone so far to murder his own blood? How- how could I serve a man –

Out of anger, pain, disgust, regret – remorse - I ripped off my helm and bracers, and vomited violently into an empty shower stall, the liquid dark and reminiscent of blood in the low light. Trembling, I began to tear off my armor. What – what had I become –

I stripped down to my underclothes, shorts and a thin black shirt and, in the darkness, fumbled with shaking hands to turn on the shower. The heat scalded my skin, but it did not make me feel any cleaner. I placed my hands on the wall, the water burning my scalp, trickling down my neck and face, soaking my little clothing.

Did my father realize, that in following his footsteps, I had become a monster? How could I bring him honor now?

Despite the heat, my body began to shake more violently than before, and low, animal groans of pure pain emanated from my throat, like a dying animal.

Perhaps it was the hiss of the shower, or my just complete ineptness, but I didn't hear anyone until they were behind me.

I jumped when a hand rested lightly on my waist.

Vayne, sent someone to kill me for my "failed loyalty?" So be it. I cared not –

Strong hands gripped my waist from behind, and I felt warmth pool against my back. The spray of water blinded me, and I leaned back to open my eyes, but hit a solid wall.

I wished, foolishly for a moment, that Rickard was alive and behind me – it had all been a terrible dream –

My knees buckled from emotion and I sank bonelessly to the unforgiving stone floor, water plopping on my head. The body followed with a grunt, and my eyes flew open, my mind clearing. I turned with sudden embarrassment, my nose running into the thick chorded muscle of a man's neck.

My mentor knelt behind me, armor stripped from the waist up, water beading up on his leather under armor. It was still cold in comparison to the steaming water and I flinched, in shock from it, from him even being there.

"I'm s-s-orry, forgive me my lord," I choked, trying to get a grip on myself in the eyes of my peer.

He said nothing, but gazed at me intently with piercing blue eyes, as much as I hated it. I didn't want him to look into the eyes of someone so weak, I didn't want him to see me as anything less than a Judge Magister – here, in this dark dungeon of hissing water and my own hiccups.

And he closed his eyes, and brought my brow to his shoulder, cupping the back of my scull with gloved hands.

And fucking hell, I cried.

Heat on my back from water too hot, heat on my front of a warmed armor of metal, leather, and somewhere beneath, a man.

I shook like a baby bird, unable to do anything but try and withstand the storm. Gabranth held me near with a tenderness I did not, could not believe came from the mighty Judge Magister, who would slay a thousand people for his empire. I didn't think he cared about anything but.

I've been wrong a lot lately.

His hand gently massaged my scalp and I calmed after what seemed like an eternity. Steam and heat rose up around us like coiled serpents and I felt the world get suddenly unreal and dreamlike.

"Feneris," he murmured, his voice rumbling from his chest to mine. I lifted my head, the water spraying in my eyes, making me blink furiously. His face, inches from mine, he held my head with his hands, thumbs on my ears and fingers buried in my drenched hair.

"You did your duty. Now, we must continue to do our duties –"

"How?" I gasped, shaking my head against his hands, "I doubt my own lords, the murders, I have lost faith in so much, how can I blindly –"

"Not blindly. We must endure such politics so that when the time comes, we are strong for those who would lead this empire to greatness. Don't stray from your path – you are a strong judge, and a strong ally to this house," he said, tightening his grip on my head to accentuate his words.

"Is it – we are – we cannot be… people. We must not feel, or care –"

"That is the life we chose. That is how we serve." Gabranth stood, and lifted me to follow. The water tarnished his remaining armor and I felt guilty for my lack of strength. I was distracted, shaky, and just altogether exhausted. He shook my shoulders to regain my attention.

"We will serve this empire, because no one is more qualified that we. Our armor is the shield of this empire – our helms the faces that would inspire our enemies to terror and fear. We will do things we find wrong, until we realize that we are the sword and shield of the Emperor – and therefore, we are not wrong. We are tools. We are his tools."

"We… are not people?" I asked weakly.

Gabranth's eyes went dark for a moment, before he took a step back from me to reach for my armor.

"We are Judges."

I think I lost some of my humanity, right then. If that means I don't have to feel the pain of loss, then I welcome it.

And suddenly, I understood Gabranth a little more so than before.

We have not spoken of this at all since that night. In fact, he's seemed a little cold to me, distant, harsh. I suppose its normal. He doesn't want me to see him as a man. His face is one of horns and helm – and mine, is one of fierce loyalty and the eyes of a hunter bird.

----------------------------

What do you think?


	4. Chapter 4

**Winter 58th 702ov**

With the deaths of Issaic and Rickard Solidor, Archadia has taken a severe blow when it comes to its foreign policy and politicking. This both good and bad for me. Obviously, since I haven't written in many a week, I have been furiously busy.

Rickard and Issaic were fantastic ambassadors of this kingdom. Without them, we are stifled for compassionate, or not so compassionate, foreign dignitaries. Thus – it is the judges who go to the outlying countries now. With Vayne and Gramis in control and 2/3rds over the senate, I believe that Archadia will soon begin occupying the lesser countries around our borders.

It is not what Rickard would have wanted.

I spend most of my time in Archadia overseeing the duties that Gabranth, Drace, and Zargabaath once saw to. Those three judges are constantly in visitation with the outlying countries – trying to secure and occupy with the least amount of bloodshed. That leaves Bergen, myself, and Ghis to see to the judicial duties here in Archadia.

Like all Judges who come to power – I have my own group of, well, lackeys. A series of lower judges who like my political ideas, or just fear me, I don't know. Without Gabranth here to tutor me, I spend an awful lot of time doing Judge-ly things, like court sessions, sentencing high-class criminals, overseeing important meetings, and, my favorite part – providing protection to the young Lord Larsa.

He provides me with a sense of self beyond the helm, the mask. He is fiercely intelligent and enjoyed conversing on a number of subjects. And I can see why Drace is so protective of him – he reminds me wholly of his late brothers, a testament to the good of the Solidor house.

I haven't seen Gabranth in over two weeks. I hope he's doing well on the outskirts.

**Winter 61st 702ov**

I find that having "lackeys" is _extremely _useful. Not only do I now have a feed of information coming in from all areas of Archadia, but it makes it easier to do my job of keeping tabs on the overall whole of this country.

For example, one of my lower judges informed me that a higher level Judge, named Ffamran, was showing a good deal of dissatisfaction in his current duties. I did a little research – this boy is not only barely a man, 17, 18 years old – but he is Dr. Cidolphus's son. My father was friends with the Doctor, so I took it upon myself to sit down with the boy. We met in a private meeting up in the Solidor sector, with a view of the gardens.

I told him to remove my helm, as did I.

"What do you want to do with your life?" I asked him, taking a sip of sweet tea.

He glared at me critically.

"Why do you ask?" He asked, the Archadian accent slipping off his tongue in perfect replication of his father's.

I leaned back, folding my hands calmly in my lap.

"Well, I want to serve the empire because my father did before me. I want his name to be remembered - I wish to serve and protect the Solidor line. That is why I am here," I said casually, "Yet, I sense no driving purpose for _you_ to want to be here."

Ffamran looked away, the façade of indifference cracking for a moment as a look of anger crossed his handsome features.

"My father wishes it."

"But… you do not."

He glared at me but said nothing.

I leaned forward, metal of my breastplate clicking as it folded. I regarded him solemnly and said,

"Then, why don't you leave?"

He gaped at me.

"No, I am serious. If you don't want to be here, if duty cannot bind you, then I would suggest you go to where your heart takes you. I wish… I wish I could paint, draw, and design, but my desire to serve my father and this country is too strong. If you are not bound by a true desire…"

Ffamran shook his head, eyes wide.

"Why are you saying this? You are a Judge_ Magister –_"

"And, as much as I dislike it, I am also a person," I growled, "And I understand the way you are feeling. Besides," I shrugged, "If your heart isn't into your work, you would be more useful somewhere else."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean this – I will free you of judgeship; I will provide you means to leave this place behind. On one condition-"

"And what is that?" he breathed.

"If you hear… anything, news, anything a good judge, such as myself should know about – you send word."

"You wish me a spy."

"No – I wish you to be free of a situation you have no control over, and in return, if you hear about something like, a grand volcano with neon purple and pink lava accompanied by singing chocobos opening up in Rozzaria, you let me know, yes?"

And so, I granted Ffamran Bunansa 10,000 gil, helped him flee this country, and gained, hopefully, a valuable pair of eyes outside Archades.

I also interrogated a man from the Old Republic of Landis earlier this morning, who tried to barter his life with information. Normally, this would not phase me – but as I felt my humanity draining out of me like blood while I put him to the torture devices, his screams echoed the words "assassination" and "solidor" in the same wheezing breath. I stopped the session and ordered the lesser judges out, leaving me with the broken man.

"You have been convicted of murdering a statesman of Archadia," I said smoothly, my voice containing none of the disgust I was feeling.

"Ye-ha, such' is theh' life of ah mercenary!" The man gasped.

"Are you telling me you have information that would make this process of your death, a little quicker?" I asked not unkindly.

"Aheh… I want ma' life!"

I paused, and began hating myself that much more for this lie.

"Very well. Tell me what you know, and we'll see if its worth bargaining with."

"Eh… ma brother, in Landis, he's part o' a group of rebels gainst' the empire-"

"And why should he be different from the countless other rebel's we've annihilated?" I asked smoothly.

"Because hees' troup means to end the Solidor line, startin' with youngest te' oldest."

I narrowed my eyes behind my helm.

"What of it? What else do you know?"

"Nothin, but maybe… with eh, some water-"

I grabbed his neck in one terrifying movement and brought my helm an inch from his face.

"Tell me… what you know."

"Ahct!" The man cried out, "I know only… something.. called the Bastieel! Tha' – Tha' name of the terrorists!"

I stared at him for a moment longer, giving him the chance to say more, when I dropped his reddened throat and exited the room. I then ordered my judges, to take care of him.

And now, you can see, why I have no desire to write about my life. I have become a monster.

I try to sketch, it doesn't help.

I wish Drace was here to give me consol.

What I do, is for the good of the Empire.

For Larsa.

The justification sounds hollow to my ears.

**Winter 67th 702ov**

I am aboard the Leviathen, heading back towards Archades. A day ago, I received word that my Mentor had been trying, without success, for over a week now, to get the small country of Albais to join peacefully with the empire. I also heard, through my sources, that my poor mentor had not slept in four days.

To hell with that.

I boarded the Leviathen, and arrived in anger, striding out of the ship with a presence that put fear into the local's eyes. I entered into the city courtyard, where Gabranth stood wearily, posture heavy and voice near horse.

"I will not join hand with Archades and their sacrileges attitude towards our sacred waters!" A man yelled from the podium. "We are at war with Bikjanel, and we need to focus our attentions there! Perhaps, in time, when we've won that war, we will join you!"

"I am afraid not," my voice boomed as I stormed into the fray. Every head turned towards me, but I paid little attention to them. I went right up to the grand podium and climbed it to its top rung, staring down at the argumentative man.

"You are quite correct, Sir. You shall not be joining the Empire on this day. However," I roared to the crowd, "We are also removing our troops and support, since you are not in favor of us. You will be without aid, and I pray the best befalls you when Bikjanel comes knocking to your doors."

A gasp ran through the crowd, and the old man sputtered. I put a hand up before him.

"You chose this path, not we. I will return in a few months, when you have destroyed yourself over petty arguments, and take what is left for the Empire."

And with that, I walked to Gabranth, who's posture dictated he was gaping at me, and took him by the arm. "We go. Farewell."

So, I took all the troops and rounded them up onto the Leviathen, and secured the royal wing of the ship for Gabranth. He sat heavily into the ships' first class seating, and removed his helm. His eyes gazed into mine with disbelief.

"Under what authority did you do this?" he said with shock.

"Under Lord Gramis. I spoke with him as soon as I heard about Albais's resentment. It was in our best interests, and yours, to leave."

He just stared at me as I began to remove his outer armor, without his permission, my hands working quickly over the bracers and buckles. I met his gaze – dark circles rested beneath his eyes and he looked wan. The dying sunlight filtered in through the window and sparkled off of his armor, blinding me before I removed it.

"I want you to eat something, and get some water into you," I commanded softly as I relieved him of all his outer armor, setting in on the seat parallel to him. I waved to a guard, who entered the room with a tray full of meats and cheeses and a pail of water.

"Eat," I said again as I sat across from him next to his armor, beginning to remove my own.

Gabranth shook his head at me with disbelief.

"You are not the fledgling I left behind," he said softly.

A grin, or grimace, quirked my lips.

"I am a judge."

I removed my own outer armor as he finished devouring the food before him, and I grabbed the arm of the seat as the engines hummed to life.

"We will be returning to Archades, along with all of the Judges, for a meeting this week," I said, "Lord Gramis has ordered." The lights in the cabin dimmed and I sat in the seat beside Gabranth. The ship began its ascent, and soon the skies were dark without city lights. Gabranth seemed to be dazed, or lost in thought. I thought briefly of telling him about Ffamran, or the man I interrogated, but decided not to as I gazed at him. His hair was mussed, his face gaunt with exhaustion.

"Rest," I said softly, nudging him with our touching shoulders.

"I cannot, I have so much to do, reports, of this – this failure –" He argued half-heartedly.

"It can be done in a few hours. I will wake you. Rest now, and you'll be of clearer mind to go about it," I soothed, another lie spoken from my lips.

He looked at me and swallowed. I could see, in his exhaustion, perhaps more of the man than the metal for once. He was calculating - his eyes were looking inward and not outward.

And then, in something akin to defeat, he slumped back against the soft of the seat, and stretched his legs outward. As the Leviathen reached its cruising altitude, Gabranth's eyes began to close, seemingly against his will. To ease him, I grasped a book, this one, and opened it, reading. Before long, as the ship turned, I felt his chin touch my shoulder. I slouched a bit more, and his head, heavy and limp, rested itself in the nook of my shoulder and neck. His breathing was deep and even, and I knew, that I would not wake him until he was rested. I could not stand the idea of my mentor being without his strength.

It felt good to support him, emotionally and physically as he slept – made me feel a little less of a monster, and more a human being.

And now, I am done writing. Who knows what the following meeting will bring. Gabranth sleeps heavily against me now, arms crossed and snoring softly.

I think… I think I care for him more than I should. I cannot stand the idea of harm coming to him, or Drace, or Larsa.

I will protect them.


	5. Chapter 5

Merry Christmas, Katmillia and Paola; before I leave for NY, this is for you.

* * *

**Winter 74th 702ov**

Ah, how the tables turn. Now, I have been the one too busy to get a good night's rest. I actually had to turn down dinner with Drace tonight, which broke my heart. But, we have rescheduled for tomorrow. I find myself looking forward to it.

**Winter 77th 702ov**

This is insanity.

I am overseeing four convictions of implicated rebels, in one week. That is insanity.

Also, I received a message from one of my "trusted" lackeys – a man, unknown, requesting a private audience with me. I really didn't have time for it, but it tickled my curiosity, and I agreed to meet him in lower Arcades yesterday morning.

My metal casing clinked with rhythm as I strode into an abandoned airdock on the east side of the lower part of the capitol. The drizzling rain pattered with a dinging noise on my helm and it irritated me as I approached the decrepit building. It was dark, and I couldn't see very well. I motioned for my two guards to wait behind, and I went in alone.

"You said you had information for me?" I called into the darkness, not a trace of unease in my voice. It was quiet for a moment before -

"Well… yes, I do."

I inhaled sharply as I saw the hunched form of Ffamran lurch forward from the shadows. I moved my weight quickly and managed to get my hands on his shoulders before he stumbled to the ground.

"Ffamran!" I hissed, reaching, but not touching the bloody cut on his brow. "Its been barely two weeks and you've nearly got yourself-"

"Bal – Balthier, if you'd please," the boy coughed.

I growled for my guard to run to the nearest market seller for first aid and supplies while Ffamran tried to collect himself.

"What happened?" I asked sharply, removing my helm and pushing past his arms to discern where the blood was coming from. Ffamran slapped me away weakly in a pathetic gesture of strength.

"I, er, was in the process of, acquiring an airship when it went rather, well, badly," the boy grinned, his newly pierced earrings dangling in the rainy breeze.

"An airship," I asked.

"Well… someone else's airship."

"That you tried to steal."

He huffed indignantly. "I would rather say, taking from an ill cause to a better one, thank you." The guards returned with potion and cloth, and he winced as I began to pat down the wound on his brow.

"Where are you hurt?" I asked.

"Oh, a bit bruised on the ribs, but I'll be-"

"Drink this."

The boy hesitated, but took the potion and wheezed, coughing. He handed the bottle back and seemed to sit a little straighter.

"Much obliged."

"Well, it would not do me to have my investment dead in his first month of freedom," I said languidly, standing up.

"Oh, right when I have such glorious information for you, master judge," he smirked, straightening his shirt cuffs as he stood.

"Do tell."

"I heard that there is a new resistance cell forming, not that I really care," he drawled, apparently feeling more himself, "and that their targeting House Solidor specifically."

"Yes," I droned. "I hear that all the damn time. But, look at that, my house is still here."

"Oh? What of Rickard and Issaic?" Ffamran asked with a raised brow.

My mood immediately darkened and I felt my jaw clench unpleasantly.

"That was not the act of an outside faction. But that is beside the point. It is in the past. I am concerned with the present, and future," I hissed through gritted teeth.

"So when I tell you, that Lord Solidor is an easy target, you'll forgive me for being blunt when I say, you'd better be with him at all times from now on."

"And what specifics?"

Ffamran rubbed his arms, seemingly chilled.

"The people I tried to steal that ship from, they were holding it for a rebel group. And they were particularly nasty. Very quiet – stealthy. Brutal. Collected. Organized. I wouldn't want anything to do with them, that's for sure. They had an odd name, actually, started with the letter… b, was it?"

My eyes narrowed.

"Bastieel?"

Ffamran's face darkened.

"That'd be it. Seems you don't need much of my services."

I sighed, reaching out and grasping Ffamran's arm. "Perhaps I would appreciate you coming around, if only to see you still alive. As of now, I have my doubt's you'll get your airship with your head on your shoulders, Ffamran."

"I told you," he glowered, "It's _Balthier._ And I'll be just fine."

I nodded. "Balthier."

I am going to tell Drace about this "Bastieel" when we dine in two days. Tomorrow, however, is the grand winter Parade, and I must take extra care for Larsa. I have a sinking feeling about all this.

**Winter 80th 702ov**

Well, that was the worst day of my life.

Lets see – where to start.

The winter parade is a large, grandiose thing in Archades. The parade route is over five miles long, with a stand in the middle to pause and wave at the Solidors. People from the streets are welcome to walk with the parade performers, on the sides, and it's a big mess of happy people. Usually.

Now, I'm going to be quaint. I was exhausted. Beyond reason. I had been up for three nights consecutively constructing reports on those damned Rebel insurgents from four different countries and I was not at my best. I could have left two of them for Gabranth to do – but he's just as overtired as I am and I wanted to give him a break. So, I appealed and made sure I was the one to get those last two cases, so he could have the evenings of this week off. It was the least I could do – I wanted him to spend some time with Drace. With the loss of the Solidor brothers, we have all been so busy…

It was a surprisingly warm winter day, with cold rain instead of snow. I stood, along with the other judges, beside the royal house of the empire. Larsa waved to people with the excitement of a child, Vayne remained calm with a half smile plastered to his face and Gramis was wrapped in many thick furs on a tall chair, watching the parade with interest. I was cold, and shuffled my feet to bring feeling back into them.

"Are you alright?" Drace asked me quietly from Larsa's side, careful not to butt helms with her protruding headpiece.

I nodded, closing my eyes briefly.

"We'll get you some coffee after the parade," Drace said knowingly. I stiffened, I looked at her. Her head was tilted, and I could just imagine the smirk underneath.

"Oh, yes, I saw that you took some of Gabranth's workload. I can only imagine what it has been like." Her voice softened, "We are lucky to have you."

I smiled beneath my helm. And then I got… this chill, that started at the base of my spine and traveled the length of my torso. I froze, eyes gazing out into the crowd.

"Drace –" I said lowly, waving to Larsa as I stared into the mass of people… and just felt off.

My peripheral vision didn't see movement, exactly, but the _lack_ of movement. I thank the Gods that Drace understood me without words, and I had already begun to move to the emperor and blocked him from the right side, as a hiss of an arrow buzzed by my head. Before I could even think, I felt something hit me hard in the shoulder and I grunted – turning my back to the Emperor's seat and shielding him as best I could.

It was all in slow motion Drace already had Larsa behind the podium stand, the place where he had been a minute ago split by an arrow. The music of the parade was too loud – the screams didn't start until what felt like an eternity later. I turned my head – Zargabaath was lying on the podium, on his back, unmoving. Ghis and Bergan were escorting Vayne and Gramis while Gabranth and I stood before them, a physical barrier.

Another sharp kick from an invisible man, to my arm, and I twisted, loosing my balance. The world became vertical to me and I struggled to comprehend what was going on. People were running and screaming, and I felt strangely numb.

I tried to lean forward, and nearly succeeded, before a pair of floating limbs pulled me back to the ground, only… couldn't be the ground, it was the wrong angle – resting on his knees?

"Medics!" A man with graying hair yelled, his fingers prying beneath my helm and taking the armor from me. Rain fell freely to my face, into my eyes, and I struggled to stay conscious.

"Look at me, Naiyel, just keep looking at me," the man murmured. I swear, he looked familiar to me –

Gabranth's helm floated into view –

"Take care of her, Cidolfus," my mentor yelled over the din, "We go for the attackers –"

I felt the man's fingers on my neck as he took my pulse. I don't think I ever really lost consciousness, but it was all a blur for a while. I remember being hoisted off the ground, armor, arrows and all, and taken inside somewhere. There were voices, and extreme pain that brought tears to my eyes. I looked up and Drace was beside me, in the way of the doctors who fluttered about, her armor taking up half the bedside. She gripped my hand tightly.

"Just a little more," she whispered, as a physician wrenched the barbed arrow from my shoulder. I arched off the cot, gasping, trying not to scream.

"Missed the artery, thank the Gods," the doctor said, setting the arrow somewhere out of my field of vision. He poked and prodded the area and I stifled a cry, tears streaming down my face. Drace laid a hand on my brow, the leather freezing cold to me.

"You're alright, it's alright," she cooed softly, totally unlike the woman I knew to slay people in a heartbeat. I blinked, realizing I was partially naked – my armor off and my shirt cut away. When did that happen?

"She'll be alright," the doctor said, applying ample potion and rapping my shoulder and bicep. "The muscle in her left arm will be weak for a while, but she'll get the strength back. Lucky the bolt hit where it did on her shoulder, lest –"

"Yes," Drace silenced him, for my benefit, I think, "She'll be alright."

Everything blurred again, and there was movement. I blinked rapidly, and then Drace was beside me again, in a simple black tunic.

She leaned me forward, and helped me into a thin sleeveless undershirt. I winced in as I lifted my arms for it.

"What…" I asked, disoriented. I was in the medical sector, though I had no memory of how I got there. The room was dim.

"There is someone who wants to see you," She said with a soft smile, patting my uninjured shoulder.

"How long has it been since –"

"A few hours. I'll bring him in now."

The door opened with a groan, and I gasped at the bright light from the hallway. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust.

Larsa bolted into the room and jumped on the sleepcouch, pinning me against the wall. I gasped in pain as he threw his arms around my neck.

"Oh Master Feneris I am so glad you're ok I thought maybe you died I'm so glad you're ok –" the boy gushed, burying his mop of dark hair under my chin.

"Larsa," I breathed, unable to hold him while I supported my weight with my uninjured arm. He brought his face to mine, big wet tears glistening in his eyes.

"You saved papa's life."

I did?

I saw Gabranth enter the tiny space, his hulking form still clad fully in armor. He removed his helm and tucked it under his arm.

"Did you – did you catch them-" I said lowly, anger building in my already overtaxed veins. How dare anyone threaten this boy's life -

He closed his eyes, his expression answer enough.

And I felt red hot fury within me. How _dare they-_

Gabranth handed a vial to Drace, and then regarded me solemnly.

"We found them in the second watchtower. They had slain themselves to prevent capture."

Larsa wiped his nose adorably on his shirtsleeve, and shook his head.

"Its ok Master Feneris. Everybody's ok."

Before I could even respond, I felt Drace touch my brow gently.

"Here, I want you to drink this tonic, it will make you feel better."

I don't know why, perhaps it was exhaustions, but that was just _not_ the thing to say to me. What was she saying? That I was _weak_? We failed – we did not catch them -

"Larsa," I croaked, could you give us a moment?"

He nodded and paused, pressing a fleeting kiss to my shoulder, which stung like hell. He flopped off the bed and scuttled off into the hallway. When the door closed, I surged upwards, boiling with anger.

"You are supposed to be my _mentors_," I growled, "I want you to teach me how _not_ to need human debilitations! I want to be like you – Beasts of armor and fear, with no – no dehabilitating _guilt_," I panted, shaking, sitting up and swinging my feet over the edge of the sleep cot, "Teach me how to do my job so that our empire's rulers are not in danger!" The venom in my voice stung them, I could see. "I was unaware that Judge Magisters were _weak_ and needed to be made "feel better!" I shook my head, violently. "I will be just _fine_ without drugs. I will pick myself up and find those responsible for today and _kill them _for House Solidor! I will drain them dry, and let it be known that no one gets away with attempted assassination in this Empire!"

I sat there, shaking, gasping, and feeling the last shreds of what made me a human being ooze out of me and dissipate into nothingness.

Drace and Gabranth just stared at me. Yes, I had just accused them of being bad mentors. Yes, I was turning into a cold-hearted bitch. What else could I do?

The two elder Judges seemed to communicate without words. Then, Drace stood.

"You think us not human beings?" She asked softly.

"I don't know what to think!" I spat, "The harder I try to hold on to what makes me, me – I just lose more of it! I torture people for a living, I judge them guilty when they aren't, because Vayne demands it – I – I killed – an innocent senator when it should have been my own prince that felt my b-blade –"

I silenced, shaking, and full of turmoil. I think, this was the first time that Drace really saw me like this. And perhaps, Gabranth also.

I guess I thought, that if I could isolate myself enough, and surrender my status as a human being, I could make this pain go away.

And, apparently I got lucky with my mentors. They didn't get angry with me, like I'd hoped.

Drace calmly moved to Gabranth, and started to remove his armor. He just stared at me, some unreadable emotion in his eyes. Outside, thunder rolled and the flash of light illuminated the blue of his eyes. She set each piece of armor down on the floor, until he was stripped of everything but his leather beneath. He still stared at me, and I began to feel uncomfortable with his gaze, my trembling getting worse, whether it be exhaustion, pain, I didn't even know.

Drace stepped back and he unbuckled his chest, and with Drace's help, (it seemed to me she'd helped him do this before) they removed the article of clothing. He lifted the edge of his undershirt and pulled it over his head.

And so, the great Judge Magister Gabranth stood before me, his chest broad and bare, his skin pale, his arms extended from his sides and his palms out.

"No armor," he whispered, his accent sliding over me, barely louder than the rain against the rooftop. And I know he wasn't just speaking about the physical armor of steel he wore.

"We… are people too, Feneris," Drace said quietly. "We are tools of the emperor, but without the desire to serve and protect the empire, and its people, we would be nothing."

"Just because we don't show the world we are mortal," Gabranth said softly, "Doesn't me we aren't."

He moved to the sleepcot, and sat beside me to my right. His body warmth leaked to my injured side and I felt his bare skin against mine.

"And as a mortal," he said, as Drace handed him the vial, "I want to make sure we keep you around for a while. Please," he asked, "Please drink this so you can get the rest you need to be strong to help us do our jobs."

He held it before him, the flashes of lightning refracting through the class and casting green light on his face.

The wind of my sails seemed to be depleted, and the anger I'd felt moments before just vanished. I took the vial with a shaking hand, and hesitated. I then downed the contents of it, and handed it to Drace.

"I'm… sorry I didn't see the shooter earlier," I confessed, staring blankly at the window across from me.

"Well, if you hadn't taken half my workload, and you weren't exhausted, you might have done better," Gabranth said gently. I winced, but he scooted an inch closer and said, "But even so – you saved all their lives. Even as an exhausted, normal human being – you still saved their lives."

I nodded weakly. The action made my head spin, and I suddenly felt my limbs go heavy. The tonic worked its way through my veins and I felt a great weight settle over me.

"Let us not speak of this – inhumanity again," Drace chided, taking a seat beside the sleepcot, brushing her hair out of her face with her hand. "You are a good person, Feneris. You have our approval. Is that not all you sought in the beginning?"

"Yes," I admitted, trying to maintain my bearings.

"And you will help us protect Larsa – no matter what, or from who," she whispered.

"Yes," I slurred.

I felt Gabranth move and lean back, sliding behind me. Ever so gently, he grasped my good left shoulder, and tipped me, pulling my form downwards. I did not, could not resist, as each passing second I felt my very mass grow heavier. I sank into the mattress, my head heavy on the pillow. He snaked an arm around my waist and pulled me close, the heat of his body warming mine. His skin was smooth and warm, and I felt his nose bury itself in the back of my head, through hair.

Drace reached over and placed her hand atop mine, and Gabranth placed the one curled near my chest atop that, as if making some pact, one that was not spoken in words.

And for the first time in many nights, I slept deeply. I dreamt strange dreams of kings and succession, of my father, of the life I had lead before.

I woke to a rumble of thunder. I opened my eyes blearily, the room dark. Drace was dozing in her chair, arms crossed and hair blowing gently in the rainy breeze that came through the open window.

I paused, and flexed my arm and shoulder. The tonic, as much as I detested admitting it, had done a wonderful job. The pain was there, but not near as what it had been.

A soft sound behind me stole my attention, and I very, very gently turned onto my back, and to my left.

Gabranth's left arm pillowed my head as he sprawled onto his back, his right arm tossed above his head. His chest rose and fell with steady rhythm, and gentle snores came from his open mouth and slack jaw.

"Gabranth," I whispered, more for my benefit than his.

I would have never guessed it would be this man, who saved my humanity. This man who I feared, hated, and grew to care for more than I'd thought possible.

The Judge turned his head back and forth, brow furrowing in his sleep. His left arm twitched, and pulled me to him. I froze as my head pillowed against his chest, his chin on my brow. He stilled, and I listened to the rain, and his steady heartbeat.

I heard Drace stir. She pulled the cotton sheet up over us, and gently touched my shoulder, before I heard her exit the room.

A tear stung my eye, and I buried my nose into Gabranth's skin.

I cared so much for them. So much, it hurt.

This was three days go, the attempted assassination. I have not worked as much, as I am not up to my normal level of strength. Gramis visited me, personally, in my quarters last night.

The buzzer went off and I yelled for whomever it was to come in, as I tried to draw with my sore right arm.

"Lord Feneris."

I about fell out of my chair when I heard his voice.

"My-My lord-" I whispered, bowing my head.

"At ease. Young Larsa is with me, he wanted to personally visit you to deliver something for you," my emperor stated as a matter a fact-ly, a small, fatherly smile on his face.

Larsa came in to my quarters with wide eyes, having never seen them before. He came before me and I knelt, stiffly, to meet him eye to eye.

"I have something for you," he said.

"Really? Well, then, lets have a look," I said.

He pulled something from his pantpockets, and handed me a tube of rolled up paper.

I looked at it with interest, and pausing to glace and the emperor, before unrolling it.

It was a drawing, done in crude waxes, of a bird, a hawk, or falcon, with a child with dark hair smiling next to it.

"That's you and I," Larsa said solemnly. "I would like you to have it."

I felt emotion clog my throat. I nodded, a smile breaking me.

"I would be honored, my lord."

I think… I think I can find a balance now. Of Judgeship –

Of being a person.

**Winter 84th 702ov**

Today, word has reached me, that despite their failed attempt at murdering the Solidors, this Bastieel rebellion is still strong. Whispers of it come from Miercus, the cursed city I nearly lost my life in during the beginnings of my judgeship. It would not surprise me that a town, torn asunder by the empire, would house those who seek to murder the Empire's rulers.

I will travel, undercover, to Miercus in the morning. I am meeting with Balthier, and we will attempt to find out what we can.

I have not told Gabranth or Drace.

I cannot put their lives in danger along with mine. I care too damn much.


	6. Chapter 6

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**Spring 04th 703ov**

I have never been a fan of close quarters. I can deal with it if need be, but I would prefer the open to the small and enclosed.

Therefore - Jail is not a place I'd like to return to anytime soon.

I should probably start at the beginning of this escapade.

Balthier and I arrived in the decaying outskirts of Miercus some days ago - seem to have lost track of time.

Clad in two dark cloaks that covered our faces, we entered into the market place shortly after dawn. The wooden kiosks were covered with tattered cloth, affording the buyers a sense of security as they browsed the wears of the sellers. A chilled wind blew through the crowd, and I pulled my cowl closer to my neck. Beside me, Balthier pulled us towards an old jewelry seller. Her face was wrinkled with time and she watched us with hawks eyes as the boy picked through her items.

"This is quite beautiful, don't you think, Kira?" He asked, making a point to hold the most valuable object before my nose.

I nodded, paying no attention to the object, looking bored. He shrugged, and we moved to the next seller. Prodding through some odd looking fruit, I pointed, "Look, Armath, its got the shape of your brother's head."

"Hush, you," Balthier growled, taking the thing from me and putting it back on the rack. Thus, for the next several hours, we made our new names known to the venders and any who cared to hear.

At noon, we took a break and ordered tea and bread at a small, dirty little café. We kept our hoods up and sipped the hot liquid. Balthier made a face.

"Wretched stuff, this. Why, back home in-"

"Hush," I chided. "How many people did you speak to prior of our arrival?"

He shrugged. "A few…. Dozen."

Balthier had gone ahead the week prior, whispering about our alter egos of Kira and Armath, great resistance fighters against the Empire. I'd spent some time sending in my own intelligence, acting as rebels who had heard of us before . Gods willing, it would be enough for us to get in contact and get some information from those who would threaten the empire.

Bathlier had successfully gotten a hold of his first Airship. Or, rather, stole, is a better explanation. I told him I'd created a monster. He simply responded with - never, my lady. You just financed one.

So, theoretically, it would only be a matter of time until we were sought out by those interested in, or of, resistance.

We sat in the café for an hour or so, idle chatter passing the time as we watched the locals go about their business. A young boy screamed murder as his sister yanked something from his hands, and tore after her, causing quite the commotion.

"You want children?"

"Gods, no. It's not my place to rear a child."

Balthier chuckled. "You seem to do well enough with young Larsa."

"That is Drace's job, a noble teacher and her pupil. I just wish to make sure the outside world does not pose a threat to him."

As afternoon descended upon us, we wandered the lowlands of Miercus. This was not middle Miercus, where the grand court stood, where I almost lost my life. This was the a place devastated by poverty, and illness.

Suddenly, the anger of the townspeople made more sense to me.

We made our way slowly towards middle Miercus, the buildings slowly becoming more sturdy, the tarped awnings turning to trimmed fabrics of blue and white. There were no guards in this city darning these colors - the Empire ruled this land, and Archadian soldiers became more frequent as they made their way towards the center.

"Let's make camp for the evening, my lord Kira," Balthier drawled, taking my arm and leading me down a different road, the dirt turning to brick under our feet. Sunlight turned golden as it glinted painfully off the windows in the side streets. Balthier wound his arm in mine and let out a lively whistle - he seemed so at home among the streets, more so than ever in the armor of a Judge.

"Oh - and I got something for you," he smiled at me. I gave him a quizzical look, gazing up at his taller form from under my hood.

He handed me something that shined in the dying light -

The necklace from earlier.

"Thief!" I hissed, a twinkle in my eye.

"Well, I have been brushing up my pirating skills, you know."

I allowed him to slide the pendant into my pocket as we entered the doors of an inn.

We decided to bed in the same room with two large beds. Best stay together, incase we were contacted. After our room was reserved, we dinned heartily and drank, Balthier a bit too much.. The meal was… roast boar upon slabs of fruit - and we probably spent too much money on that, and mead. But, if it helped us seem as wealthy resistance fighters, then it was worth it. Balthier did not seem to argue as he ordered another drink, and grinned wolfishly at me, his boyish features flashing that of an adult for a moment, before his laugh reminded me of his youth. On our way back to the room, he leaned heavily on me, his taller form difficult to keep upright.

"Fan'tas'c," he smiled widely as I managed to get the door to the room open. He stumbled away from me, collapsing unceremoniously on the nearest bed. I raised an eyebrow, shedding my cloak and hanging it by the door, and reaching to grab Balthier's on the floor, hung that too.

"Im'so glad you helped' me scape' that ol' life," he slurred, leaning up on one arm, his eyes dark and half focused. "I like this'un far, far better," he grinned, eyeing me. I raised an eyebrow quizzically.

"Nothin', it's nothing" he smirked, flopping back on the bed, assumedly watching the ceiling spin and weave. I rolled my eyes at him, turning away to head to the washroom. I drizzled water over my face, and wiped it clean, watching my reflection in the mirror. The scar dominated my face - still flushed a slight pink, it traveled the length of my face, from hairline, to brow, cutting my eyebrow and ending at the height of my cheek. Sometimes, I felt almost - broken by it. Like, it was a mar on my physical form - my soul itself.

I sighed, and wandered back into the bedroom, rubbing my scarred cheek absently.

Balthier was still awake, shirtless, and sprawled out over his bed. He eyed me, raising his own eyebrow.

"What is it?" I asked wearily, sinking down onto my own bed.

"Not'athing," he smiled.

He fell asleep shortly after, but I stayed awake, watching and listening for signs of movement near us. At some point, I must have dozed off, and I woke to harsh breathing. I started, blinking rapidly.

Balthier moaned in his sleep, thrashing. I grunted, dragging myself up, and hobbled to his bed.

"Balthier," I said softly, shaking his bare shoulder. He didn't respond, but moaned breathily and with distress. I sighed, and sat next to him.

"Ffamran."

"No!" he cried, leaning forward and gasping.

"It's alright, its alright, Ffamran," I soothed, patting his shoulder awkwardly.

"Its _Balthier,_" he hissed at me, stiffening, and then he looked at me, and relaxed.

"I know."

He sighed, and then it turned to a hoarse chuckle. I moved to release my grasp, but he grabbed my hand upon his shoulder.

"I… I dreamt of my mother," he breathed, "and I miss her."

I nodded.

"As you miss your father."

I nodded again.

He grimaced, and looked at me again, his eyes cloudy in the darkness, the pale moonlight backing his features.

"We are the same."

I pondered this, and then I smiled and looked down. I froze when I felt soft lips against my brow - against my scar. They remained for a moment, then retracted. I lifted my head -

And his eyes seemed beyond it years. It was then that I knew Balthier Bunansa had a magnificent future before him. He smiled, and reclined, his hand still gripping mine. I looked at him with inquiry -

And as if reading my thoughts, he chuckled. He released me, placing a finger to my lips, and he closed his eyes.

The next morning, we followed much of the same routine, except this time we did not speak our names - it was not needed. We visited the gardens near the center, we dined in a fine establishment for lunch, and by dinner time, we ate well, and this time, Balthier did not drink so much.

This went on, for several days, before any change.

And then one night, during my rest, the door was burst down.

I scrambled to my feet, grabbing at my scabbard. The last thing I remembered was the flash of a hilt coming at me, and the world growing dark.

When I woke, I was in a dimly lit room. I was alone, and I was cold.

It was like this for some time. Until the only door opened, and light blinded me.

"A rebel, in my town," a man said with a grizzly voice, grey hair and eyes as cold as steel.

"Me? Pssshhh," I choked, my throat dry.

"I've heard of you, Kira," The man said, the door closing and shrouding the room again in darkness.

"Where's Armath?"

"… Resting."

"I see. I hope you've provided plenty pillows, he gets feisty -"

"Silence."

I felt a shark stabbing pain in my back and I hissed, not expecting it. There was a man behind me, or something, with a very sharp weapon.

"I am the Dammon, the inquisitor."

I nodded.

"And I am Kira, of Stillwaters, beside Landis."

"And so, you and your college are here… why? I gather more to your cause, against our empire?"

I forced a laugh.

This was a tricky information. Was this Dammon, was he resistance? Or was he truly of the empire? How could I guarantee his safety?

"I am but the messenger. You seriously think me the danger, here?"

"I know not. You seem… able. You grabbed swiftly for your scabbard -"

"I am five foot four inches tall! My arms are as thick as your wrist! Honestly," I laughed, "You think me some great warrior?"

"And Armath?"

"He's nineteen!"

"Hmm," Dammon huffed, pacing the small space. I coughed, the dusty air assaulting my lungs.

"So you are… what then?"

I smiled politely.

"We are just people with ideas."

And then I felt my head explode - maybe it was the universe exploded - maybe it was just my own universe. When the world stopped spinning unmercifully, I attempted to breathe again.

"Your… ideas… how do they suit Miercus? The empire?"

I managed to chuckle, despite my face being in the dirty floor.

"They serve all people."

And then, my lungs turned to fire. I was being kicked. I lost track of time. I think I passed out.

When I woke - it was the same. Only I was bloodier, and Dammon was sitting in a chair.

"How… how… pleasant," I coughed.

"What did you intend to do here in Miercus?"

I tried to lift myself into a sitting position, my lungs on fire and my body cold as stone.

"Enjoy some good food, do some shopping-"

"Is that so?"

"Where is Armath?"

"Resting comfortably."

I started to grow seriously worried for Ffamran.

"I wish I could be assured, that."

Dammon leaned forward in the chair.

"So concerned are you, for your comrade?"

I shrugged, then scowled in agony.

"He is my concern. He is my friend."

"Are you willing to die for your friends?"

I glared at him.

"Always."

And then - another sharp kick - to my kidneys. And to my head.

And I knew no more.

When I woke, it was morning light. I was cradled in arms, and my body felt like fire.

"Feneris?"

I groaned, the world spinning irrationally around my head. I held fast, face pressed solid into something warm. When the storm passed, the strong thumping of a human heart was comforting.

"Feneris!"

"Mm'here," I mumbled.

We were aboard… The Golden Sea, Balthier's airship. Somewhere in the back. Ship was running.

My heart was still running. Who knew being alive could be so damned irritating and painful.

"Drink this hi-potion," he murmured from beside me. I felt the cold of glass against my lips and I drank. It was sour and sweet, and it cooled my insides.

"Scared the shit out of me, Judge," Balthier hissed from somewhere above me, the majority of his voice coming from the vibrations of his chest.

And it was pleasantly dark for a while.

When I woke next, the sun was lower in the sky. The ship hummed - Balthier was still there, snoring softly. A small cot - his warmth was welcome, separated by soft sheets.

I was unsure of how it all had gone.

If Dammon was resistance, then it might not have been in vain. If he was indeed from the empire -

Well, not everyone knew of my scar. I might not be known that I was a judge.

Shouldn't someone of the empire know I was a judge?

It was too much. I slept again.

When I was awake enough to think coherently, it was a day later. I was still aboard the Golden Sea, and I woke to an empty cot.

Struggling to my feet, I wobbled into the cockpit of the tiny ship.

Balthier was curled in the pilots seat, thinking. The morning slight washing him in gold.

"Morning," I grunted, sitting parallel to him in a heap.

"How are you feeling?"

"Much better - thank you."

He nodded seriously. He looked, for the most part, unharmed. Thank the gods.

"They took me to your cell," he said softly. You weren't awake. The man… he told me to take care of you. And then we were escorted to the surface."

"I see."

Balthier looked at me deeply.

"I'm glad you're alright. He said… it was good that there are still people with honor in this world." He paused, letting out a bark of forced laughter. "I must agree. I never thought an Archadian Judge would attain true honor."

"Why?"

He looked at me.

"He said you took the blows for me."

Funny, I don't even remember that.

I arrived back in Archades three days later. I was sore and stiff, but the majority of the injuries were healed. Balthier was on his way - we would meet again in two weeks time. Until then, we would assume the air of Armath, and Kira would be vanished, and I resumed the role of Judge Magister.

It was night in Archades when I arrived. Still in robes, I walked silently through the clusters of guards and lesser judges and I made first for Lord Gramis. I informed him of my escapades. He then relieved me for the evening, thank the gods.

I first visited my master's quarters. I knocked, and loud yell was my answer. I opened the door.

Drace and Gabranth were disrobed of their armor, a shock indeed. Gabranth rested heavily on her couch while she was in the kitchen, fumbling with a bottle. The smell of alcohol permeated the room and I froze, trying not to make a face.

"You've r'turned!' Drace said a little too loudly, abandoning her task and coming to me. She embraced me openly, and I stifled a hiss, her hands gripping my back where my poor kidneys had been assaulted. After a moment, I returned the gesture, my gloved hands ghosting over her much taller frame. We held for a moment, and she backed away, a rare grin upon her features, her hair clean and moving freely as she moved backwards a little too fast.

Gabranth stood and caught her fall, both falling to the floor. They laughed with each other.

I smiled. In that moment, I felt… older somehow. They reminded me of children, and how obvious it was that they were not. Judge magisters, on the floor, laughing -

It was good to see, and at the same time, I felt like I needed to get out -

I excused myself with a low bow, my black robes touching the floor.

I found myself in the gyms. I stripped, down to pants and my shirt -

And I ran. I ran for a long time, rounding the circuit of the gym over, and over. The sore and stiffness of my muscles began to wear themselves, and soon, there was just the feel of the wind on my face, the sweat dripping down my skin, the burn of exercise cleansing me.

Some time later, I stripped down, and went to the showers. The scalding water soothed me, and I let out a breathy moan as the pounding water massaged my tired form.

I heard a noise and I froze. I turned, but saw no one.

I re-robed myself, and headed upstairs. Much time had passed - it was well past midnight now.

Exhausted to the bone, I changed again, into light pants and a clean shirt, and sank heavily onto my couch. I turned the telecastor on, and listened to the reports left for me, of my cases, my fleet, my lackeys.

I must have nodded off, when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I jumped and growled.

"Peace, Feneris."

My master moved stiffly to my side. He rested beside me, hand clasped numbly in front of him.

"Mmm Gramis hasn't said much," Gabranth slurred, "Except you've been b'sy."

"I have," I sighed, not really wanting to deal with this. I cared for them deeply, but unless I was sloshed along side them, I really wanted to be alone -

"I'm here for you, should you call on me."

I turned to him.

"Thank you," I said softly.

He slouched down, crossing his arms, and leaned his drunken and heavy head near mine. I sighed and met him - shoulder to shoulder, temple to temple. We sat like that for some time, until I fell asleep, smelling a combination of soap from myself, drink from his breath, and the leathery, musky smell of…him, of Gabranth, in the air.


	7. Chapter 7

**Spring 05th 703ov**

I woke around… gods, four, five am this morning still on that damnable couch. My back protested loudly to my nerves as I tried to rise, scrubbing my face with a disoriented hand. Gabranth made a noise of distress, and I glanced back down at him. I rubbed his shoulder, trying to wake him, but he did not stir. I rolled my eyes. How much had they imbibed? _What _had they imbibed? I moved stiffly to my coffee maker, and began to heat some water.

In my closet, I found an old darned quilt my grandmother had made for my mother years ago. I fingered the material and was reminded of times past. I had this blanket on my bed for many years. Shaking my head out of my memories, I unfolded the seemingly ancient cloth and moved to the couch, covering the elder judge.

The morning calls of the airtram wafted through my solitary window as I cranked it open. It was still dark out, but the early morning growling of ships proved that day was coming. The chilled morning air blasted my face and I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply. The smell of the air, tinged with the metallic touch of Archades, the brewing coffee -

Of all the political bullshit I dealt with today, these were my strongest memories.

I'm getting tired of battering people in the dungeons as well. I keep telling myself, I can hold on to what makes me… as long as I let it go when I enter that place, and remember who I am when I leave.

I suppose its working. I haven't had a nervous breakdown yet.

**Spring 07th 703ov**

Today's the first day I've woken and not been sore. I'm quite pleased with that.

Things are getting a little tense with the senate. Gramis and Vayne are at opposite ends on what to do with the Bak'aris territory - Gramis wants to mine it, and Vayne wishes to spend our recourses else ware, mostly focused on expanding our borders southward, towards Miercus and Nabudis.

Oh. And I guess I should mention that Gramis afforded me my own _fleet_ today. The Ifrit and her subships were placed under my direct command. Its an honor, a responsibility, and it makes my job twenty times more complicated.

The other judges were excited to talk with me about it at lunch. Now, Zargabaath flys the Odin, Ghis has the Leviathen, Bergen the Garland, Gabranth the Atomos… and I the Ifrit. Drace remains the only Judge permanently stationed in Archades, for Larsa's sake.

Zargabaath and Gabranth spent some of the afternoon with me, going over procedure and conduct aboard the vessels, my role, what to expect, strategy…

It's a bit overwhelming.

**Spring 08th 703ov**

Had dinner with Drace tonight. First time in a long time. She's proud of me having my own fleet, but she didn't sound jealous. She is content with Larsa.

It seems, with commanding a ship, I don't have to do the dungeons anymore.

Praise the Gods.

**Spring 10th 703ov**

Received word from Balthier today. He's back in Miercus, looking for this Donnor character. He has not been successful.

I worry for his safety.

I stepped foot aboard my ship, the Ifrit, today. It is a fine vessel. Just standing in the command deck sent shivers of electricity through me.

Someone had etched the head of a hawk into the two metal poles on either side of the deck. I grinned.

Tomorrow, I accompany Larsa to his monthly play. Drace has taken ill - terrible fever. I went over last night to offer consol, and she snapped my head off. She's not one to show weakness. Well, neither am I. I'll go over again tonight to check on her. Maybe I'll bring soup and bread, if only to catch her smoldering gaze and know she can't do anything about it. I love it.

I was cleaning up my place last night, when I grabbed my cloak to throw it in the wash, since its rather bloody and disgusting. I found the pendant Balthier stole for me. I don't really know what to do it with it.

I hung it on my bathroom mirror.

**Spring 12th 703ov**

Swear to the gods, that kid is too smart for his own age.

The play was in the red sector. This time it was just Larsa and I. Throughout the entire first act, Larsa was commenting, critiquing, and had figured out who the perpetrator who stole the pie was a good hour before the show was done. I laughed quietly as he grinned confidently to himself at the end.

As I escorted him through the concert hall back towards our transport, the young lord grabbed my hand and tugged. I guided us to the wall, and knelt.

"I have something to ask you, Lord Feneris."

"Of course, sire."

He coughed, then leaned close to my helm.

"Will you have ice cream with me tonight?"

Thus, I was asked on a date with the youngest Solidor. How could I refuse?

**Spring 13th 703ov**

Drace is still sick. Its at its pinnacle, I think. I sat with her during my dinner hour, going over judicial reports. Everyone once in a while, she would toss and turn, and I'd reach over and clasp her shoulder. Her fair face was flushed. I don't think she'd been conscious since I'd entered. No, I'm not a stalker. Each Magister has the same passcode to our living quarters. Yes, generally you don't go barging in on another judge, but in this case I didn't think Drace would mind.

"What are you doing here, watching over me, as if I were a pup?"

I glanced up from my enormous stack of paperwork and looked at her quizzically as she glared at me, face flushed and hair tousled.

"I'm doing my homework, ma'am. Just want to be here in case you croak. It seems only then I'll get my spice rack back."

**Spring 15th 703ov**

I went jogging this morning in the gyms. Its the first time I've been down there in the morning in ages. It seems so long since I would meet Gabranth down there every day and serve as his loyal stress relieving punching bag.

Am I crazy to say I miss it a little?

As I grabbed a shower, I was toweling off when I stopped in front of one of the mirrors.

I look totally different than I used too.

The scar is an obvious change. It's not quite so pink anymore, and it treks down my face like a great road. I've lost weight, and put on muscle. You really don't have much of a choice when you're wearing dozens of pounds of armor every day. My green eyes don't seem quite as vibrant as I remember, and I've started chopping my hair short - it doesn't matter, since I'm in a helm most of the day anyway. I ran my hand through the short brown and black strands. My hair - my father used to tell me I couldn't decide whom to take after as a baby, so I decided on both parents. Sometimes my hair is brown in the light, the rest of it time it looks black as night.

The familiar sigh of memory worked its way through me. I miss him.

I spent the rest of the morning meeting with my staff onboard the Ifrit. They seem loyal to me, practically jumping to get me a cup of coffee. I wonder - is it honest good intention? Or fear? I heard through that serving under Bergen was a nightmare. I could imagine.

Sadly, I missed lunch with the other Judges since I was onboard. I was holed up in my quarters on the Ifrit, going over the schematics I needed to approve, when I heard a small rap on my door.

"Enter," I said, not looking up from the endless amount of paperwork strewn before me.

The door swished open and I heard the clinking of a person in metal entering the dimly lit area.

"I'm impressed."

I jerked my head upwards. Balthier pushed his hood down, strolling along the wall of the cabin, and then plopping heavily into the worn couch that had been left from the previous commander.

"Well, that was an unnecessary risk," I said in monotone, trying to keep my voice even.

"Its good to return to one's roots and be thankful for what you have now, hmm?"

I scowled at him, setting the papers and ink pen down into the wooden desk.

"This is a fine ship, the Ifrit. I served onboard it before, you know. I learned to pilot from this craft."

"So, you just wanted to drop by …?" I prompted, rubbing the bridge of my noise wearily.

He raised an eyebrow and folded his hands behind his head.

"I have come to the conclusion that his Dammon fellow, does not work for the Miercus government. Because if he did, I would have found him."

"So that means we weren't being held by the Miercus government, but someone else posing as them," I supplied.

The young man nodded.

"And the question is - who?"

**Spring 18th 703ov**

I actually got to spend some time with Gabranth today. How amazingly rare. In fact, there was a lot of Gabranth in my life yesterday and today. Its kind of insane.

My fleet returned to the capitol late in the afternoon after a morning of drills and war games. The Ifrit had challenged Ghis and the Leviathen. Ghis is far older than me and with more experience, but we held our own. The Burning Hawk and her vessels even managed to win three of the six combat scenarios. I'm not going to lie, I am very pleased with our work.

We docked late in the day, four or five in the evening, as the waning daylight sank below the horizon. I, as bloody usual, was exhausted and seriously considered selling organs for a hot bath. I strode into the capitol building and royal cathedral with a sense of purpose, though. Judge Magisters don't get tired. We don't get hurt, we don't bleed. And we don't know weakness.

Thank the gods too, because as I mustered the energy to make my way into grand hall, the senate was in recess and of course I was assaulted.

"Judge Feneris!" Senator Remis bellowed, his deep voice carrying across the room and jarring my head with sound as it bounced around the inside of my helm. I winced.

"Do you have word of the Highlands?"

"What of the Leviathen's secondary engines? Are they functional again?"

"Lord Gramis said he approved of infiltration of the Highlands -"

"What are you, the press?" Zargabaath roared, scaring the piss of out myself and everyone else in the room. I skittered a bit, if that's even possible in a suit of iron.

His great horns clearing a path to me, he paused, his helm a good two feet above mine (I am fairly short, especially for a Magister. I can only assume I am the butt of many jokes) and leaned down.

"You have a meeting in your office, Judge Feneris," Zargbaath said loud enough to reach the greedy ears of the gossip - ridden senators. I nodded, and clasped him briefly on the forearm in thanks, before dragging my weight towards the Judicial wing of the Cathedral. The Magisters looked out for each other, when it came down to it.

My office was dark when I keyed into it, and I frowned, reaching for the light and grasping the hilt of my blade. As light filled the office, I saw a figure reclining in my chair. Half expecting Balthier, I removed my helm and started to berate the boy in his attempt of stealth, when I saw the gold of his hair.

Gabranth was leaned back, feet on my desk, hands folded loosely in his lap. It was the first time I'd ever seen him in civilian clothing. A pair of dark slacks, scuffed black boots on my desk (and my paper work…) a dark red collared shirt, loosely tied at the neck, and sleeves rolled up. He raised a brow at my blatant staring.

"Red not my color?"

I swallowed, walking forward and setting my helm on the desk.

"Actually, it is. I approve. I was just expecting something a little… colder. Like steel. "

He shrugged, ice blue eyes smoldering in the low lighting.

"I have the evening off."

The moment was almost awkward as I looked at him with suspicion. A small twitch of his lips made me all the more worried.

"And what would you be doing in my office? Surely, not offering to help me with my paperwork," I asked, sinking heavily into one of the decorated chairs for my guests. It felt odd to be on the other side of the desk. I eyed him uneasily.

He looked down, then back up, a small smirk on his face.

"I'm giving you the evening off as well. Lets head back up to the residential level."

"Oh? And all this work is going to get done on its own."

"Another time. Not this time. If I wait until you're done with this work, by the time I get to you, we'll be on the couch, spending quality time unconscious together, as it has been lately."

Now it was my turn to glance down, shaking my head with a small smile of my own.

Gabranth stood in one smooth motion, picking up in my helm and moving to stand by the door.

"Let's go. I want my even off to be spent to the best of its time."

"Well, alright then," I said, standing and a little disconcerted by my mentor's languid attitude, but following his lead. I was now as wide as he, with my armor, and he seeming partially naked to me without his steel exterior. He handed me my helm as the door slid shut, and started down the hallway towards the lift. I felt awkward in the small elevator, my form far larger in radius than his, and it just felt… odd.

As we exited, the smell of spices wafted into my noise, and I felt my mouth begin to water, reminding me I hadn't eaten me all day. Gabranth chuckled darkly under his breath, as if he heard my stomach rumbling through my armor. I glared at him as we walked to my quarters.

He didn't say a word as I keyed into my quarters. The lights were already on, and Drace, finally feeling good enough to walk around, was rattling around in my kitchen.

They cooked me dinner.

That's cute.

I shook my head and smiled at her, making my way back into my room. I stripped slowly, the weight a relief to get off my shoulders, in more ways than one. I heard Gabranth's cultured accent through the door, and the sharp bark of laughter from Drace.

I stepped quickly into my stand up shower, the glass door steaming up as the scalding water ran through my short hair and down my back. The water danced down my face and onto my lips and I let a small groan out - gods it felt good. My sore muscles practically sang as the water pounded down. I would've liked to stay, maybe fall asleep on the small cubicle's floor, but the sweet smells coming from my kitchen drew me out.

I toweled my hair try, strands sticking up in every direction, threw a grey tank top and light unbuttoned shirt with some dark slacks and padded barefoot into my living area, feeling a little more alive. Gabranth was standing behind Drace, close - closer than I'd ever seen him. He wore an unguarded smile, reaching from behind her to grab something off the counter for the meal they were preparing.

I collapsed on my couch, leaning my head back and staring at my plain metal ceiling. My eyelids drooped for a moment, and snapped open when a shadow was cast over me.

"Dinner's ready!" Drace said, raising an eyebrow and grinning proudly, sauce splattered across her cheek. Her bounce of brown gray hair stuck t o her brow with sweat from cooking, and for a moment she was nothing like the ruthless judge I knew.

She reached out a wiry hand and pulled me to my feet. Drace had again made use of my spices to make a poultry dish, of what kind of bird, I have no idea, but it was the strangest combination of spicy and sweet. Gabranth handed me a steaming mug of something that resembled coffee. However, upon taking a sip, my nose and burning lips told me it had far more than coffee in it. I didn't say a word - he grinned wolfishly and poured himself a cup as well.

The meal was utterly fantastic and relaxing. Whatever was in the coffee turned my brain to mush and my body to jelly. I sat beside Gabranth, his arm around the back of the couch and myself as he laughed heartily at Drace.

Perhaps I was not as alert as normal, for I jumped when the door whooshed open -

Zargabaath stood, clad in a black casual garb, with a bottle of something in his large hands. Drace patted the seat next to her on my L shaped couch, and then there were four of us. I tensed when Zargabaath's gaze met mine - but a small smile graced his aristocratic face, and I felt myself relax a little against Gabranth's larger frame, eased by my drink.

He sat across from us, handing the bottle to Drace, whom accepted graciously and placed it on the coffee table.

"Its cold in the dungeons. Do you think we could light your fireplace, Feneris?"

I blinked. "I have a fireplace?" I scowled at Drace. "Why did no one tell me this?"

Drace rolled her eyes, moving over to the corner farthest from the entrance, and touched something. The wall seemed to slide up, revealing a hearth.

"I had a fireplace all of this time an no one told me."

Zargabaath shrugged. "You never asked. I enjoy a good fire before bed."

"I have some wood in my quarters. I'll be right back," Drace said cheerily, more cheerily than normal, jogging out into the hallway, the harsh light from the hallway blinding me for a moment until my door slid shut again.

"So, Feneris. How does the Ifrit suit you?" Zargabaath asked, pouring himself a glass of the wine he'd brought.

I nodded, my head feeling heavy, as I played with my index finger.

"I enjoy it far more than the dungeons."

The elder man chuckled. I sat up a little straighter, pulling away from Gabranth's warmth.

"No, I'm serious. I have no problem aiding our empire by eliminating enemies in the air. I enjoy using my intelligence for strategy and leadership. I'd rather serve the Emperor in the air anytime, rather than breaking people in the dank cold misery of the dungeons," I defended myself, mildly aware that my speech was languid and that Zargabaath's eye twinkled with merriment.

"No, better Bergan for such duties, I'd imagine," the elder commented, raising his glass. Gabranth snorted, taking a drink from his mug.

Drace returned, holding a bundle of wood wrapped in torn old cloth. She knelt gracefully, placing the logs in the rack, oblivious to our observation. Standing, she returned to the kitchen and grabbed some of my matches, then returned to light the fire.

How long had it been since I'd seen fire for pleasure, and not fire burning down and enemy of the empire's building? In fact… the last time I'd seen fire was in Miercus, slumped against the building, bleeding -

I blinked and shook my head, returning to awareness as Drace and Gabranth discussed something concerning the senate. I huffed quietly, leaning forward and rolling my stiff shoulders. I stifled my sharply inhaled breath as fingers massaged the tender flesh and muscle beneath. I let my head fall and bow, mouth open as my head buzzed pleasantly.

"Well, I think we should toast to Feneris's new promotion," Drace said sweetly. I snapped my head up, catching the evil glint in her eye before her face slackened innocently.

"I know just the thing for it," Gabranth said, leaving my shoulders and standing, (shakily) while moving towards the kitchen. I cracked my neck, muscles blessedly more loose, and blinked when a glass was deposited in my hands. It was pale amber, the glass was half full, and it looked decidedly deadly.

"I'm not going to survive this, am I?"

The question took on a different meaning as I heard all their breaths catch, eyes on me. I was the smallest and shortest one there. We all stood, staring at our glasses.

'Don't worry," Zargabaath said, touching his glass to mine. "We'll take care of you."

The double meaning was clear.

We took the drink - I felt my throat close in burning fumes.

Gagging, I wobbled and felt tears spring from my eyes -

"Oh my _gods,_ what was -" I choked. Gabranth started to laugh, deep and hearty, and Zargabaath joined. I would have scowled at them had I not been struggling to breathe.

I sank back to the couch, and thought I'd be alright. It's alright. I'd had a big meal -

Then Gabranth sat beside me and the whole world began to spin in earnest.

Fantastic.

Their laughter continued, and my mentor's arm came around me, pulling me close. I could hear and feel the rumbles of his laughter through his chest and I jammed my eyes shut, trying to will the world to remain stationary. I concentrated on the beat of his heart and tried to steel myself against the heat flooding my body. What the hell _was_ that -

I cracked an eye when I heard Zargabaath - gods, I'm saying it - _giggled_ at whatever Drace said.

Really? Giggled?

I don't think I'd ever been as intoxicated in my life, as I was right then. Time started to have little meaning, while I clung to Gabranth in some vain attempt to one, stay awake and two, not throw up. His fingers plowed the hair on the back of my neck as he stroked me, his sporadic laughing jostling my head.

I felt a hand cup my cheek and I forced my eyes open, finding Drace leaning over Gabranth, face blurry.

"Baby bird?" she asked, and that earned a bark of laughter from Zargabaath. I groaned, shutting my eyes again, tucking my head in the crook of Gabranth's neck and shoulder (something I would have been horrified to do, sober, but at the time it seemed like a good plan) in an attempt to evade the blurry and disorienting world. I heard them laugh again at my evasion.

I could feel the pulse of his heart against my brow, his breaths on my chin and the slow rise and fall of his chest and that was more than I could handle at the moment. I chose that moment to depart the plane of the waking.

I woke briefly some time later. The fire was dying down, and I could hear the soft conversation of Zargabaath and Drace floating in my ears. I made a soft noise, swallowing and shifting my weight. Still dizzy, I thought for a moment the world was moving, but then I realized I was. Tipped downwards, I felt myself be arraigned as my pillow of a man reclined on the couch. I made a gruff, indignant mewl, trying to lift my head, but a large hand cupped my skull and brought my cheek back to his torso, and the soft sigh that resonated through it, paused me.

"Baby bird," he said softly, with a chuckle, running a hand through my hair. I wanted to protest the pet name, but it seemed too much effort and I succumbed to morpheus again.

The third and final time I woke that night was again to a sense of movement. Blearily opening an eye, I discovered that yes, I was still drunk, yes, the world was still to blurry and yes, I was moving and not just the world around me.

Gabranth lay me down, gently as a drunk man could, in my bed. He pulled the top covers over to my waist, and with a tenderness I hadn't seen since he'd found me sobbing in the showers, cupped the side of my head. He moved to leave, and what possessed me, I'll never know, but I grabbed his hand, and squeezed hard. I held it to my chest. He stopped, and stared down at me. He glanced back towards the living area, then back to me.

He sat gently beside me and leaned down, meeting my shoulders and embraced me, arms above on the pillow. I felt his cheek, the side burn scruffy against mine. He took a great, shaky breath, and exhaled it into the pillow next to my ear. I could feel his pulse against my chest, his heart strong and fast.

The judge leaned upwards, his arms on either side my head supporting him, and looked into my eyes, seemingly searching for something. I looked back at him, as solemnly as a drunk woman could. He shook his head, a half smile breaking his face. His nose bumped mine and he pulled back, eyebrows up.

"What?" I asked.

Just the way he looked at me made my heart beat faster.

"I…" he started, tonguing his front teeth, trying to come up with the words his muffled mind couldn't put together. His gaze turned inwards for a moment, then it came back to my eyes with a gaze not even alcohol could dilute.

"I thought I was made of steel. I wanted to be."

I swallowed.

"I know."

He stared at me. I sniffed and said,

"If… you're made of steel, you can't hurt. You can't feel. You just… do your duty."

I remembered my father.

I remembered his death. I remembered how much it hurt.

I closed my eyes, and felt the sudden burn of tears. I said -

"If you're steel, you can't be who you were before. You can only serve those you lost."

I felt his breathing hitch, and I turned my head to the side, eyes still closed.

Then I felt heat on my eyelid, and my sensitive lashes. I stopped breathing when I felt the soft graze of lips on the ridge of my eyebrow. They traveled down to my cheek, then froze when they touched the wet of my tears. I opened my eyes, blinking rapidly but still looking to the side, into the red of the shirt on his arm.

He tilted my head forward again, and regarded me with something… I can't really describe. My drunken brain informed me he was close, he was warm, and that it felt good.

And then he closed his eyes and lowered his head, planting a soft, opened mouth kiss on my lips. I sucked in a breath - it felt incredible, even as numb as I was. For a moment, that's all there was. His lips on mine, descending from above.

Under normal circumstances I don't think I would have reacted this way, but -

I brought a shaking hand up past our chests to his cheek, and tentatively responded with a kiss of my own.

It wasn't heated passion of two lovers, it wasn't making out with a random man outside a pub. It wasn't… I can't even describe it.

It was so, so painfully gentle.

It was lips on lips, my hand threading through his soft hair, his uneven breaths from his nose and mouth on my skin. After a few moments, his chest sank down onto me and the majority of his weight was on mine as he pulled himself fully onto the bed with legs on either side of mine. He pulled away from my lips, hands grasping above my head, his kisses warm and soft against the sensitive skin of my neck and ears. I couldn't stifle a deep, quaking breath as he explored the skin below my ear lobe, his mouth caressing and slow. My heart started to thump in cadence, and as he did whatever it was he was doing, I felt my hands raise and grip his sides of their own accord, squeezing his shirt.

Silently, he moved back to my lips and we kissed again. The world, in all its irritating spinning and disorientation, slowly dissipated to the feel of Gabranth. His tongue begged entrance, tracing the counter of my lower lip. I responded by ignoring his request and pulling his own lower lip into my mouth, suckling gently. A soft, rough groan escaped him and his stomach tightened. He tilted his head and pulled back from me, moving again to place feather light kisses along my jaw, his increasing breathing hot against the skin there.

I opened my eyes and stared at my ceiling, trying to control my breathing and failing miserably and his nose brushed my ear.

He stopped then, lifting his head again, and he regarded me with blushing lips and an open mouth.

"I didn't -"

I furrowed my brow and gently squeezed him with my arms. He shook his head, swallowing.

"It's alright," I hushed, bringing my right arm up again, and touched his cheek, trying to convey my compassion with that gesture. He looked at me again, this time tears lined his eyes. Why?

I pulled his head to my own shoulder, running my hands through his hair. The far taller man gripped me tightly, and what a site we must have been. He rolled off my chest, curling to my side instead, and arm crossing over and gripping me tightly. I felt the heat of tears against my neck.

"I didn't know that anything could have survived," he whispered hoarsely.

"Survived what?"

"The… this steel," he said so softly, I could barely hear, "Gabranth."

I swallowed, my throat dry with imbibed liquor.

"And who are you?"

He cried openly then, burying his damp nose into the edge of my hair, deep into the pillow. I could make out one, broken word.

"Noah."

Noah.

His name had been Noah, like mine had been Nayiel.

How much of us survives being a judge?

What is my name, anyway?

It was a terrifying thought, really. But there was little time to ponder it. I rolled quickly to my side, and cradled the man's head in my hands, running a hand through his mussed hair. His face was broken in pain, a pain I sensed had not seen the physical light of day in a very long time. You spend so much time building you walls, your armor, your steel, and you try to bury the flesh beneath.

I wrapped myself against him, sending a leg between his and trying to encompass him as much as my smaller form could.

"I'm so sorry," he gasped, shaking against me. I brought my arms around his shoulders as he buried his face in my shoulder and breast.

"I'm so sorry for letting this happen," he trembled.

"What happened, Noah," I asked as gently as I could, as if speaking to a man who hadn't tasted air in years. In fact, that was probably the case.

"I let them all down," he whispered, muffled against my chest.

I shook my head, not comprehending in my altered state.

"And… and I miss them."

Well, that I could relate too. I have no idea whom he was referring too, but at this point, I just rubbed his back and soothed him as best I could. After he calmed somewhat, I pulled back and faced him. He opened his eyes groggily at me, blinking heavily.

"Listen to me. I will tell you this. As much as you hate it, you're more than a walking suit of steel. Whatever you were, whatever happened, has lead to where you are now. It's probably not where you wanted to be," I whispered, "It probably didn't happen because you wanted it to. But I will tell you this, Gabranth - Gabranth _is _Noah. You are there - you are the same. You may have lost friends, homes, land - and… and even some of yourself. But even in Miercus," I reminded him, "You saved me. You cared. A slave of the empire with no will or brain wouldn't have done this. And I know, for a fact," I lowered my voice-

"That the man you are now would have done everything in his power to help those he cared for. And whatever happened - was not in your control."

He breathed heavily as my speech progressed until his eyes were squinting with tears.

"As long as you have been here, you remind me every day, that… I haven't lost my humanity," he confessed brokenly. "And that there is hope for what I've done -"

"You are honorable, Gabranth," I assured, "Larsa adores you. Drace adores you. Hell, I've come to realize I'd lay down my life in a seconds notice for you. How could a monster command such loyalty? Not through fear," I whispered harshly, "But through honor."

I touched my nose to his.

"Whoever you lost, they would be proud of you, Noah."

And I guess that was something important, because those words completely broke him. He cried openly to me, his breath thick with alcohol as if to remind me of his weakness. And despite my own level of intoxication, I do remember these things before falling asleep -

The feel of him - warm, and safe, despite his own despair. Gabranth was strength incarnate that night. I remember how he tasted, and how he smelled, the texture of his fine shirt, the way his hair felt in my fingers.

But the smallest detail, and probably most important, though I will probably never ask him, save if I will be as drunk then as I was last night, was the soft murmur Gabranth breathed before giving into sleep, curled up against me. Just as my eyes drooped closed, I felt a breath on my neck and the soft word -

"…Basch…"

When I woke this morning - Gabranth was gone, though the warmth of the blankets beside me tell me he hadn't left me alone.

And while I am unexplainably embarrassed -

I'm glad it happened. The only problem is, now -

I care for him all the more.


	8. Chapter 8

**Fixed those pesky grammar errors. Thats the fall back of writing when you're tired. Its set in motion, folks. I'm so excited! I've waited a long time, and now I get to start drawing on the past chapters to build the plot to its climax. I really hope you enjoy what I have planned. I'm no Dan Brown, but I'm excited for you:) Thanks so much for the feedback!  
**

* * *

**Spring 20th 703ov**

I met privately with Lord Gramis today.

He wants me to lead the Ifrit, along with the Leviathan, into battle against what's left of the Republic of Miercus's defensive airships. We leave tomorrow.

I don't know if that's enough time to warn Balthier to get the hell out of the city.

I'm afraid that if we kill off our contacts in that city, then my leads to the resistance movement will be lost. I tried to convey this to Gramis, but he was having nothing of it. I sense Vayne has been of some persuasion.

Shit.

Haven't seen Gabranth. I really don't know what to think about it. I do know, I'm not drinking again. Ever. My brain is swollen like a sponge. Still. How many days ago was this?

I know he is busy with judicial duties, but that he will join us in Miercus after we have taken the city, our backup.

I wish he could be with me the whole time. This is my first true command, and its not Gabranth at my side, it will be Ghis.

Ugh.

**Spring 29th 703ov**

Nightmare. Total, utter devastation.

I will recall what I can. Time has melted together since the last time I sat in my office and wrote that last entry. I've almost died so many times since I've started writing this journal, its not even humorous anymore.

It was a clear, beautiful spring evening as our ships flew towards Miercus. The Ifrit and Leviathan are two of the largest ships in the fleet. Their support ships, the squadrons, the medium class attack air tanks, these are considered the true army of this empire.

Normally, when one sees these ships coming towards you, one would

a) Flee like the hounds from hell are at your heels

b) surrender

c) seriously reconsider firing upon the larger ships.

Thus, I conclude that the mercenaries of Miercus are out of their minds.

They had three cruiser class airships, damaged and worn with time, according to intelligence. And of course, when Ghis made the call to stand down and accept Archadian occupation, they chose to open fire.

I clenched the command deck, and took a deep breath.

"Release the Hawks," I commanded softly.

"Hawks released, your honor," one of my captains shouted back.

My ship's lighting turned red, the color of arms. It was as if the ship was suddenly bathed in blood. Fitting, it seemed.

My squadron of small fighter jets zoomed out from beneath the Ifrit, flying formation towards the Miercus defensive. The sun was setting - the sky was blazing brilliant pinks and golds - the Hawks seemed to disappear for a moment, before the explosions and gunfire began.

"Hard starboard," I commanded, following the Leviathan and tipping our craft. "Ready the leftwing cannons."

"Aye, your honor."

"On my command…"

The Ifrit and the Leviathan, named after great beasts of fire and water, moved in perfect unison towards the fray. It was as if it were a stately dance, choreographed by the gods.

"Are you ready, Ifrit?" Ghis's voice rasped over the intercom. "On my mark-"

And for a moment, it was quiet. The Hawks pulled one eighty's and screamed to the outskirts of the aerial battle ground, leaving the three Miercan ships among the smoke.

"Fire!" Ghis bellowed.

"Fire," I breathed.

The ship rumbled beneath our feet, and you could feel the propulsion of the dozen missiles from the ship. Ripping apart the sky, they raced towards their mark.

I watched as the three ships struggled to move evasively. For one of them, it might be able to dip below the missiles path. For the others -

It was a great explosion. The first vessel was hit directly near the power grid of its glossair rings. And thus, its death began as billows of black smoke hissed away from its mass. The second craft was damaged helm side and in its hull and belly. It faltered and I awaited to see if she would survive.

The third craft began a rapid turnaround to face us.

"Re-load the missile bays, immediately," I hissed.

The damaged craft moved to the side, bearing the full frontal view of the final craft. I had an uneasy feeling creep its way up my spine.

"Sir!" one of the Hawk rattled over the intercom, "They're preparing a weapon! Looks big!"

I shook my head and whirled around to my radial officer.

"Can you see it?"

"Aye…" she said, peering through an elaborate periscope that's furnishings climbed to the top of the craft, affording a telescopic view. "Big. Looks almost Rozzarian. Alpha class warhead." she took her head away from the viewing panel and swallowed. "One that big could easily disable, if not destroy the Ifrit or the Leviathan, sir."

Rozzarian warheads were one of the biggest things the Empire feared. Developed about two years ago, they contained… some kind of stone material that was devastation wherever it exploded. I should have seen it coming.

"Where the hell did they get a Rozzarian Alpha class warhead!" Ghis growled over the intercom. "That's why they fired on us, they thought they had a chance at disabling our ships with a Gods-dammed warhead!"

I paused, closing my eyes and thinking, a bead of sweat dripping down my face beneath my helm.

"Take us in front of the Leviathen. Then I want the Mages down below, every damn one, casting Hastaga on the skystone. _Now._"

The crew went silent. I whirled around, my cape flying behind me.

"At least one of these ships will be destroyed unless you do as I command!" I bellowed. The crew responded, skittering to their controls and instruments.

"What are you doing!" Ghis exclaimed as the Ifrit and her superior speed began to surge towards the final Miercan craft.

I ignored him and slammed the intercom button.

"Weapons -"

"Here your honor!" a boy responded, crashing heard in the background.

"Forget loading the sideslot cannons. Give me all you have and load then in the front barrels, three per tube."

"Aye, sir."

"Hastaga is being cast, sir. But - with all our mages working on that spell, we won't have any defensive shield against the -"

"I know," I said softly, watching the clouds part for us as the Ifrit barreled towards its enemy.

"Warhead released!"

The crew grew silent as the airborne bomb raced towards us.

"Speed at full, sir…"

"Maintain it, and prepare our missiles."

The tension on the bridge was palpable. The room smelled of sweat, and fear.

"What are you going to do, shoot it after you've been destroyed? Gods, Ifrit! Evasive maneuver!" Ghis exclaimed from his ship.

"It would be useless, sir," my radial officer said. "If its Rozzarian, then its not just a missile. Its got a guided homing device on it. It won't matter what we do."

"I know," I said softly.

"Impact in ten! Nine!" my navigator counted.

"Five! Four!"

I grasped the con, and prayed.

"Two! One!"

And then -

There was nothing.

Silence. Blessed, still living silence.

My heartbeat rammed in my chest and I took a deep, steadying breath.

"Fire our missiles."

Time was frozen for a moment. And then, the Ifrit took her prey.

Our missiles made quick of their mark, and the battle ended. The Ifrit was silent. The flashing red lights were bright in the dusk for a moment, before the dying explosions outside brightened the helm.

"I… don't understand," the young radial officer said softly.

I swallowed, and sucked in a grateful breath.

"Rozzarian warheads are guided, like you said, lieutenant. That being said, they also need at least forty seconds to arm themselves before that system can lock onto its target."

"You dog," Ghis breathed over the con. "You destroyed the warhead with your ship before it could arm itself."

Thus - the Empire retained her esteemed crafts.

"Land immediately! We take Miercus, now!" ordered Ghis. "No more games."

I gasped one of the poles as the ship rapidly began to lower to the earth. My radial officer just looked at me, her eyes wide with youth.

"How did you know?"

I chuckled, trying to keep the tension out of my voice. I tried not to think about how lucky we all were to be alive.

"I just read an article about those warheads this morning, one of a dozen newsletters I chose to read. Go figure."

Perhaps the Gods favored me after all.

And, we began our decent. Within the hour, we had landed and grounded well over seven hundred troops. The invasion began just as the last fleck of light left the sky. Thus, under darkness, the Empire would take the heart of Miercus. Lights from the ships pooled around the assembling army. Troops emerged from the ships like ants, lining up for a great siege. Which, I guess it a fairly accurate description of what was about to happen.

I unsheathed my blade, and lead my troops to the east, Ghis and his to the west. At first, the only sound was the heavy clanking and marching; the sound of men in metal. Within twenty minutes, the screams of woman and children were forever branded in my mind.

Vayne's orders had been simple.

Kill anyone who opposes you. Hell, kill anyone you feel like.

To me, that seems a little unjust. In fact, I am disliking Vayne a bit more everyday. As if I hadn't already.

There was one order however, that seemed odd to me. We were to kill everyone and anyone except the chancellor of Miercus, and his advisor, who was called Aldric.

Why was the chancellor's name not even mentioned, but this Aldric figure so important?

The march towards the center of the city was bloody and wrought with death. The people of Miercus hated the empire, and even woman and old men met us at arms. I chose not to kill anyone. I had lackeys for that. It helped me keep my sanity. My father… would he be proud of… of _this?_

_Gods, what was I even doing here?_

I had little time to have a psychological breakdown, as it was at such time my first battalion and I had reached the center - the political stronghold of Miercus.

Most of it was on fire.

I stopped the troop from entering, raising a plated hand. I bowed my head for a moment, and summoned my reserve. It took a moment, (I had always been a little slow), but a moment later, the white light of hastaga blanketed the first and foremost of myself and my men. The world slowed.

Drawing my sword, I marched into the center plaza, past the dying soldiers who fell defending this place, past the crumbling stone. Marched up the stairs, past the columns, into the atrium of the heart of this destroyed city. Marched without feeling.

And at last, we burst down the heavy doorway of the capitol building. And inside, were three people.

One, I recognized. It was Balthier.

Chained and bruised, he looked at us with tired eyes.

Next to him, an old man, dressed in robes. The chancellor.

And next to him -

"Aldric?" I inquired.

The third man narrowed his eyes. He was older, skin sagging around the neck, propped up by and expensive collared shirt. His hair was grey as iron, and his eyes sharp with intelligence.

He didn't say anything, but I knew. I stepped forward, gripping my blade.

"Release him," I pointed at the boy.

"No!" Balthier yelped standing and looking to the other two men, before stepping a few feet in front of them, towards me. "Don't send me to _them!"_ I narrowed my eyes, confused. Balthier made a face at me, and winked. And then, comprehension dawned.

"Armath," I hissed, filling my voice with menace. I saw the flash of a smile on Balthiers face before he fell back into character.

"Go on, you bloody tin can," the boy cursed, "Kill us all, but dammed if I'll tell you anything."

I turned back to my guard.

"Take them, all three, to the Ifrit. Let no harm come to them. The empire wants them alive," I commanded, then stalking out of the room. Before the arrest could take place, I grabbed the arms of those trust men I'd cast hastega on and yanked them out of earshot.

"I want you to ease the bindings on the boy, so he can escape. And then, I want you to help him and the other two get out of here."

The two men gaped at me -

"I know, I know. But this is the will… of the emperor. Do not ask questions. I will aid you shortly."

And so, it was done. The three prisoners were near the back, and I followed them. The world seemed muted and gray as the hastega worked its way through my veins. I saw the boy pirate slowly look back at me, and I gestured for him to break his bonds.

And so, it began. Balthier made a good show of fiddling with the cuffs, then turned around and did a very good job (too good, it hurt) of smashing my helm. I let the sword fall - he grasped it and told the other two men to run as he fended for them. My own men made a great show of battling him, but were no real threat.

After the two men were gone, I grasped Balthier's arm.

"Did you manage -"

"Yes!" He panted, handing me back my blade. "It worked! It really worked! I have so much to tell you -"

"Not now," I whispered, reaching into my pouches and thrusting a few potions and aid into his hands. "Take these and go with them. Am I to call you Arm-"

"Yes! You were brilliant -" he grinned, "For a tin can."

I barked laughter, and grasped his shoulder fondly.

"Now get after them. Contact me when you can, when you are safe!"

"Aye, _your honor_," he saluted, and scrambled off down the corridors.

I felt the Hastaga wear away, and the world suddenly distorted again. I turned to leave, when a large figure blocked my path.

"What. Is this."

I swallowed.

Gabranth was before me in all his glory, both swords out, bared in my direction.

Oh, _shit._

"You knew where the boy was all this time?"

I said nothing, but gripped my sword. How much had he seen?

Gabranth moved towards me startlingly fast, and pinned me against the decaying wall. I suddenly felt very, very small.

"I walk up these stairs to find you shoving the boy whom for I've been searching for _weeks_ on his merry way -"

"I didn't know-"

"He is my friends _son_," the man snarled through his helm, "A friend who helped save your life at the winter parade, I might add. And what do you do for him, aid the boy in foolishly running farther!?"

Alright, so lets think about this. Gabranth doesn't know I disobeyed direct orders and helped the rebels escape.

Gabranth also doesn't know that Balthier and I are trying desperately to find any intelligence on the same people who _shot_ at the emperor at that parade. So, by letting Balthier go with them under guise of a resistance leader, we had a man close to what we want -

How do you explain all this to a man whom you trust, who is so angry he looks about ready to take your head right there?

I'm not proud of it. But it's the only thing I could think of.

I lied.

"I knew Ffamran before he left the empire!" I growled, letting anger color my voice in an attempt to make my words more plausible. "I didn't know you were looking for him! He asked for my help, and I gave it!"

The silence was excruciating. It seemed to last a lifetime. My heart thudded painfully in my chest.

Then, the Judge made a noise of disgust, and stalked off.

"The Chancellor and his man have escaped. Best we _find them_ and that _boy," _he growled behind him.

I sagged against the wall.

Unfortunately, Gabranth didn't know that I made sure that those men were not found. I don't know where they went.

But Balthier was with them. And I trusted in him.

Once Miercus was secured, I remained in that shattered city inside of its shattered republic. Ghis and I began to create the new infrastructure of power, and it took several days. So much blood to clean - the bodies were stacked high, with the mourning families surrounding them. Our flag, the flag of my father's great empire, was strung all about the rubble and the Empire had taken another country for its own.

I don't think I was able to eat a single meal in those days.

Finally, last night, I was able to return to Archades. The first thing was first - I was escorted to Gramis.

And when he asked me about Aldric, I told him -

That they had escaped.

Gramis was not pleased.

"Gabranth tells me you aided a fugitive, alongside this failure?" The emperor said calmly. I swallowed, heat spreading through my body as I grew more nervous.

"I didn't realize Gabranth was searching for him, sire. He was captured by Aldric and wounded," I lied smoothly, the words just flowing from my mouth, "I recognized him as an old friend and gave him aid. I did not realize he was wanted, my lord." I knelt, looking down. "Forgive me."

The silence was thick. And then I heard a soft sigh.

"Rise, Feneris. I know your loyalty is true," the emperor said softly. I stood, albeit shakily, and met his gaze squarely.

"I swear to you, my lord. I will see this through."

And I meant it.

As I drug my ill fed and tired body through the halls of the royal wing, I paused for a moment as I crossed the courtyard. There was the young prince, Larsa, playing in a pool of shallow water, dipping his hands in it. The sunlight bounced of his hair, creating a golden halo around his head.

_I will protect him, at all costs_, the words came unbidden in my mind.

Beside the boy stood Drace and Gabranth, helmless and speaking softly. Their posture spoke of their bond. Most others would not have noticed, but as a judge, you recognize what its like to stand in a suit of sharp armor. Their proximity was a risk normally not taken with other people, lest the other get hurt.

But they trusted each other. And in that, lay the bond.

And when they glanced up to me, I could feel Gabranth's eyes narrow. I wondered if our bond had been shattered along with everything else in that damned city of Miercus.

I kept walking and left the three alone.


	9. Chapter 9

Ok just so we all know, THERE WERE NO MAKING OF BABIES IN CHAPTER 7. Nice, harmless, innocent sleeping after emotional episode. If I decide to right a love scene, you'll know it. I'm still on the fence about that, I've never written anything like it before… oh and best reviews ever. I really love it when I make a character deep and developed enough for you to like and not feel is fake. Feneris is built out of a psychological stencil - she has faults, and strengths. They'll play out their roles, just as everyone else will. OKLETSCONTINUE

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**Spring 33rd 703ov**

I'm so tired of politics. Politics make me die inside, a little more each day.

**Spring 34th 703ov**

Well, its time to confess.

When I'm faced with a problem - say, someone I hold in esteem or someone I care for is in danger -

I hold no quarter. I will engage them and I will protect what I hold dear.

However.

When I quarrel with someone I respect and care for, I generally like to hide myself away for awhile. It's perhaps not the most productive thing, but its what I do. I do not like to show my anger or pain, better to keep it inside and let feelings subside. Thus, I've been practically living aboard the Ifrit.

Since my daredevil stunt with the Rozzarian Warhead, my crew has shown nothing but the utmost respect for my command and my presence. Therefore, its nothing too terrible to spend time here. In fact, I'd take patrolling and going over tactical reports any day rather than torturing human beings for Vayne in the dungeons.

The food is iffy, but that's my only complaint, really. I spend most of my time either on deck engaging patrols with the Leviathan, or in my quarters doing this or that judicial report to be sent back to the capitol. Some nights, I go to the bay, the great glass windowed room that lies just beyond the engine room, and watch us go through the clouds, cutting the sky. It brings me a sense of peace I've never known before.

Its like a taste of freedom, while being chained to duty. And suddenly, Balthier's plight is not so foreign after all.

**Spring 36th 703ov**

Well well, you'll never guess who made an appearance on the Ifrit today.

Of all people.

I was told a Judge was docking with us in the port bay, and I felt my heart start to throb uncomfortably in my chest. It hurt me to know Gabranth was not happy with me, but I wasn't ready for a confrontation yet.

I stuffed the emotion, however, and strode down the corridor to the bay. Several lesser judges followed me into the hangar, and I watched a small Archadian transport dock to the Ifrit.

But it was not the horns of Gabranth who emerged, but rather the shell-faced helm of Bergan.

I… was a little surprised.

"Esteemed commander of the Ifrit!" He bellowed, marching towards me. Oh _Gods. _

"Word of your amazing tactical victory has reached us in Archades, and I realized I must have underestimated your talents. I simply had to visit you and ask for your hand in lunch."

I really… couldn't say anything for a few long moments. My brain had stopped functioning.

So, I had lunch with Judge Magister Bergan.

I really… I just don't know. It was downright _strange. _We spoke of skyships and the mechanics of the glossair engines, just simple talk that commands of airships would typically have I suppose. He was very careful to avoid the topic of politics, and for that is he most intelligent. I know where his allegiance lies. I fear it stands more with Vayne than with the empire itself.

And after lunch, he just smiled at me, this eerie little smile like he's got something up his sleeve but you don't know it yet, and he departed back to Archades.

Something's afoot.

**Spring 37th 703ov**

He came again today. Wanted to go over some navigational charts. Its just too odd.

Why does it hurt me so to know that I could probably be spending some of my time with Drace and Gabranth, but I'm not?

Why can't I forgive myself for lying to him, and to the emperor? I'm not trying to deceive anyone…

I miss my godsdammned father and am very angry at him for leaving me today. I hope it passes. I'm really tired of feeling this way.

**Spring 40th 703ov**

So much to take in…

Balthier contacted me 3 days ago, in the middle of the night. And by contacted, I mean docked to my ship, managed to sneak his way into the cabins and knocked on my door at two thirty in the morning.

"We have to go. No armor. You're Kira from now until we get back," he flushed, breathing hard.

And so, I threw on my robes, tried to clear the fog from my brain, grabbed my blade and scrambled after the boy to his ship that he docked precariously near the fuel cells. He'd brought a speeder, and while I am all for standing on the deck of a airship and commanding a crew, doing a ninety degree vertical drop while maintaining a death grip on a young boy who really can't have been piloting very long is enough to make me never take a step off of Ivalice again. Dear Gods I almost threw up. More than once. I buried my face into his back and mumbled incoherently in stark terror and he laughed, the wind in his face.

I guess, now that I look back on it, its not a bad memory to have. I just didn't enjoy my stomach lodging itself in my throat.

Actually, I may have dozed off after a while. Once we leveled off, and weren't trying to end our lives by plummeting to the ground, it was rather nice. The spring night was clear and crisp, and Balthier was warm to rest against.

When I opened my eyes again, pinks were starting to stain the sky and I had not a clue where in Ivalice we were. Balthier was leaned back against me, eyes heavy but on the horizon. I patted his stomach lightly and he turned.

"I would offer to fly so you can rest, but we'd probably die, and we'd probably get lost," I said sympathetically. He smiled at me drowsily, his charm infectious in the dawn.

"I need to tell you something before we get there," he said solemnly, fiddling with the control, locking the navigation. We dropped in altitude and slowed so the wind wasn't deafening and the he twisted until he could look at me.

"Feneris… hell, I don't even know your real name. But I want to tell you, I left my judgeship because, yes, I didn't enjoy it. But there's another reason," he confessed, rubbing his forehead.

"You said, your father-" I supplied.

"Has gone mad," he whispered softly. "Or, he's in the process."

I frowned at him, silently urging him to continue.

He shook his head, raising his eyebrows as his gaze turned inward.

"He's become obsessed with his research. So much - he didn't even bat and eye when mother died. So obsessed, its all that matters in his life. The past two years have been a nightmare," he groaned in monotone, very unlike the boy. "I left trying to get away from all of this, and then I found out its all connected-"

"What is?"

He grimaced, looking at me with haunted eyes.

"You'll see when you get there. I just want you to know - this isn't what I wanted. But… you've shown me that even if its not something we want to do, sometimes we should do it anyway, because its what's right. What I'm doing, helping you… its what's right. And I really believe that."

I didn't understand, but I let it be. I simply nodded, and we watched the sunrise as the speeder raced towards whatever lay ahead. Eventually, the boy dozed off, head heavy on my shoulder. I had the brains enough to read the navigational consol and I could see we had an hour or so until we reached the autopilot's destination, so I let him sleep heavy on my frame. His words resonated to my core, and honestly, made me feel less like a failure than I had in several days. For one so young, he seemed to have an otherworldly, perhaps spiritual intelligence about him, as if he was older than his years.

Once he found his footing, he'd be ok.

The controls started beeping as the sun rose over the dry mountains we were crossing. He inhaled sharply, stretching like a cat and making a high-pitched squeak before reaching for the auto pilot and disabling it. And again, we swooped down towards the world, and I felt my stomach lurch into my mouth.

I have not a clue where we were, but it was barren and dead. The sun beat down upon the mountains, and we landed the speeder in a clearing upon the hearth of the mountain side. Offering a hand, Balthier helped me down, and stepping into character, I accepted graciously and moved confidently beside him.

"Remember everything we talked about, character wise?"

"Aye sir." A confident wink.

"Good. Let's go."

All very theatrical, we entered a small cave lit by fires along the walls. It was surprisingly damp and cool inside given the environment outside. The walls were cracked with age, despite the moisture. It reeked of age and time.

The cave opened into a larger area, the ceiling craggy and dark. There were chairs, a table, books and papers strewn everywhere. Someone chose a strange place to set up an office.

And the shelves, my gods -

Books, thousands of books lining the walls. I felt completely diminished by the wealth of knowledge in that room. The smell, the scent of ancient papers, it was overpowering to me.

And there, sitting near the center, was Dammon, from Miercus. Next to him, sat Aldric, and beside them both, a stunningly beautiful woman with rich silver white hair, tied in many braids that flowed down her shoulders like great ropes of gold. The sat like kings or queens, backs straight and in command.

"Kira, of Archades, and Armath of Nabradia."

Balthier and I both nodded in unison.

"We are of the Bastieel."

I felt white hot heat flood my body. It was _them._

"Armath tells us that you were integral in supplying him with the necessary information for getting him to us in Miercus." I nodded and bowed slightly, appearing humbled. I stood tall and met them straight in the eyes with my gaze.

"Please - I wish to know about you and your thoughts on the empire, Rozzaria, what is going on with this world. I have heard that you are knowledgeable, and as I stand in this room of books and word - I would really like to know," I asked bluntly.

They stared at me for a moment, analyzing, and I felt my heart beat erratically against my sternum. I met their gaze and held it, strong, proud. Confident.

Aldric stood from his chair, and moved to the nearest wall of books. He reached out a hand as of to touch them but didn't, his silver hair bouncing the light of the fire as he moved.

"We have been here for many long, long years, we of the Bastieel," he said softly, eyes on the books, "But I fear we will not be here much longer." He turned at looked at me directly. "There are too few of us, and too many who know and seek the power of the stones." He paused.

"There is something wrong."

I furrowed my brow and asked what he meant.

"The balance is gone. Someone knows about the stones - someone is targeting us," he sighed, sitting down again. "Someone who knows the old ways."

Shaking my head, I closed my eyes for a moment, then looked back up with what had to be a bewildered expression. The man sighed.

"This world's civilization was built on the power of the stones, ancient tools the gods bestowed to those worthy," Aldric explained impatiently, "And since the dynast king of times past, we were left behind, to protect the knowledge. To protect the secrets, so that such power didn't fall into the wrong hands." He paused, looking to Dammon and the woman, and then back to me.

"I sense we have failed."

I blinked. It was a lot to take in.

"Stones?" I asked, furrowing my brow. And then, intelligence dawned. "You mean the stones that Raithwall used… but - they're just the stuff of ledged!"

"I'm afraid not. And it seems that someone… with much more intelligence that he should, has informed the empire of their power, and existence."

"I don't under-"

"Don't you think its odd that, suddenly in the past few years, Archades has begun conquering other countries?"

I looked away. It - couldn't -

"…to do what? Search for you?"

Dammon barked laughter.

"It seems they do know where and how to find us, and kill us off, yes. But more importantly…"

The woman looked directly into my eyes.

"They are looking for the stones."

Looking for the stones. I, a senior level judge, had heard nothing of this. Gramis had said nothing to me, nor Drace, or Gabranth… unless… like the search for Ffamran, Gabranth just hadn't said anything?

Would they keep that kind of information from me? I…

"Armath says you are an advisor in the capitol, Archades, and have been informing those from Nabudis of what's been happening politically with the Solidors," The woman said directly. I confirmed it, head still reeling about the lack of information available to me about this Bastieel situation.

"That is valuable information," Dammon said, raising an eyebrow. I looked at him with a grimace.

"This is coming from the man who beat me for pleasure."

"Quite the contrary. You proved yourself honorable by protecting the boy. Honor… is a commodity not found often these days," the man said without regret.

"What is it you want of me, and how is it going to help Ivalice?" I asked warily.

The three stared at me impassively.

"We would like the information you can provide us."

I looked to Balthier.

"What is the payoff?"

Aldric shrugged, his expensive coat collar bumping up against his chin.

"Power. Knowledge of the Gods. We might be able to prevent the empire from taking any more countries, any more lives…"

"But not directly," Balthier murmured.

The woman looked to the books, as if it was of no importance. "Some will die. Sacrifices must be made. It is for the better path of mankind."

That… just didn't feel right to me.

"And who decides what is best for mankind?"

The woman smirked.

"Those of us educated by the gods."

And what the hell are you supposed to say to that?

I tried to gather my wits about me, and come up with a way to get my questions answered while I was here.

"I am very careful about whom I supply information too. I… let slip word of the winter parade in Archades, and the emperor was almost slain," I whispered, letting a shiver run up my spine for affect.

Dammon huffed, rolling his eyes.

"I assure you, we had nothing to do with that. We are above petty murder."

I somehow managed to contain my surprise. If the Bastieel weren't responsible, then - perhaps they were lying?

"What are your long term goals, here?" Balthier asked mildly while cocking his head.

They were silent for a moment.

"We must first discover, and destroy he who knows and actively seeks the stones. Then, we must take them back, and place them back into the hands of the gods," the woman stated a matter of fact-ly.

And the question of the hour -

"Who are your targets?"

Her eyes were piercing, like a cat stalking its prey.

"They lie in house Solidor and its most _humble_ allies, and the empire that wishes to use the stones to conquer a world."

These people wanted to murder my leaders and send my country into turmoil. And yet, if what they said was true… the corruption -

Surely, Gramis cared more for his people than to lead blind conquest and a path to glory carved in blood? Everything I knew was shaken. My mentor, perhaps withholding this kind of information, my people…

What I believed in. The country my father died for.

People trying to control our fate, supposedly taught by the Gods themselves.

I stood smoothly, allowing none of my inner turmoil to reflect in my expression.

"How will I communicate with you?" I asked pleasantly.

The woman stood and turned her back to us, apparently finished with the conversation, having received what she wanted. She began to walk towards the dark back of the room, her shining silver dress fading as she clicked away. Dammon and Aldric stood as well, the latter moving to an old oak wood desk, and pulling out the door with a creak. Balthier came to stand next to me, physically touching my shoulder with his body in a noble attempt to show support for the emotional turmoil he must have already endured when presented with such information.

Aldric pulled a velvet purse from the desk, and dusted it off with a look of distaste. As if revealing some great treasure, he took his leisure in pulling the object from the pouch.

He removed a thin, glowing crystal from the container and handed it to me.

"It is an ancient tool of your Gods," he explained as if telling a child, "It will pulse when we require you, whether we want something of you, or to give you something of… value."

I took it, holding it for a moment before making a good show of reverently placing it in my robes. Aldric nodded stiffly, and made a hasty goodbye, before the two men turned their backs on us, and followed their female counterpart towards the back, not even bothering to see us out.

I felt terribly shaken for a Judge Magister.

Balthier seemed to sense this, and took me by the arm, back to the speeder.

"I don't have enough fuel to get you back to the Ifrit, so we'll need to stop Let's fly low for a while until we reach Albais," he said gently, helping me up onto the speeder. This time, I sat closest to the controls and he in the back. Starting the craft, he took us up gently into the mid morning sky with a gentle slope.

I didn't say anything for a few moments. What could I say? What do you do when everything you fight for, believe in, and want to achieve suddenly evaporates, or might be false?

What do you do when you feel like your mentor might have manipulated you? Lied to you? Or, even worse, your emperor?

"I must tell you something," Balthier said softly into my ear as he leaned forwards, piloting the craft. "I one thing for certain about these stones."

I didn't say anything, but I did lean my head back and toward him, listening.

"… my father… he… I know that he began to stop… stop caring about mother and I shortly after he started studying stones. And I fear-"

"They are the same stones," I whispered, closing my eyes.

So, there was some truth to all of this. Father, what did you die for? Let it not have been in vain. I don't think I could handle that. This was hard enough as it was.

We landed in Albais shortly after, and now I knew where we were in the empire. A good six hour's flight from my craft. I stood outside the aerodome as our ship was fueled, my hands braced on the wall as I moved my head back and for to work out the kinks, the sunlight filtering through the dome onto my hands. Glancing up, I watched Balthier's mouth gape open in a great yawn. It was at this point I decided that flying back, even with autopilot would be dangerous. I reached into my robes and checked my finances.

"Come with me," I said dully, grasping the boy's arm and hauling him behind me. He stumbled after.

I checked us into a medium class inn, under no guise, and ordered 2 lunch plates to be brought to the room.

"Well," Balthier said as he plopped down on one of the two beds, "If you wanted to spend some time alone with me in a fine establishment, all you had to do was ask-"

"Hush, you," I said as I rolled my eyes, setting my blade against the wall and sitting in the bed while I massaged my temples.

There was so much to do. So much research to be done, so much to find out.

"I feel the weight of the world upon my shoulders, Balthier," I whispered. "I must… discover the truth in all this." I looked up at the boy with heavy eyes. "If what they say is true… and all this time, these past years, the movement to expand… it was for some darker purpose, do you know what it will mean for this country? This _world?_ If Gramis really did this, and made these sacrifices -"

"Shhh," Balthier stood and moved to my bedside, kneeling to my eye level. "There is time. You should rest now, you'll feel better with a few hours of sleep in you." The boy, just a boy, reached up and touched my shoulder.

I did find sleep an hour or so later. When I woke, dusk was falling. Balthier was not in his bed, though the sheets were upturned. I enjoyed a hot, though brief shower, and grasped my sword before sitting again in the bed.

My father's sword. Etched with lions and hawks, nicked and marred from battle.

"He fought honorably with this sword," I said softly to the figure standing in the balcony window behind me. "He died with this sword in its hands. It has been passed down for generations." I turned, facing Balthier.

The boy's eyes were dark and sincere, the loose shirt untied and billowing in the evening breeze.

"Most families who protect the Solidor line, their swords have names, so that they are remembered in battle." He cocked his head. "Does your sword have a name?"

I looked down to it, running my fingers over the hilt.

"It is the Storm-bringer, The Strahl."

**Spring 44th 703ov**

I had to return to Archades today, for the first time since… since I began living onboard the Ifrit.

My home seems alien to me now. I am so utterly terrified that the place I call my own, my pride, my Archades is corrupt, that it makes it hard to look upon its walls without bile rising in my throat.

And today, at the council meeting, Larsa was there. All the Magisters were there. Gramis, Vayne, many advisors -

I felt so, so terribly alone. I stood to the side during the meeting, silent and still. Bergan came over to me during recess, and whispered something meaningless in my ear. And it was then, that his intentions became clear.

As the elder Judge stood beside me, I could feel the piercing and disapproving stares of Gabranth and Drace.

Gods _damn_ it. I did not want our relationship destroyed beyond repair.

But at this point, Its all too much. Too much conspiracy, too much hopelessness.

Overwhelming.

Where is my strength without purpose? Where is my strength?

I stood abruptly, my helm coming up to about Bergen's chest and I strode out of the chamber, disgusted with politics, disgusted with myself for my enduring compassion for those who might yet betray us all.

I am lost. The world looks different now.

But, I cannot stand idle. I respect the past too much, and too high of hopes for the future. I have begun placing my most trusted men within the ranks of the capitol staff.

I will find the bottom of this. The stones, the Bastieel, the corruption.

And above all, there is one who I know to be innocent.

I will protect Larsa.

As I stood outside the council chambers today, trying to steel myself against these feelings, the small patter of feet arose from behind. I turned to find the young prince looking up at me.

"Kneel, Judge Feneris," he said, his voice unwavering and sincere despite its lack of depth in pitch. For a moment, I froze.

And then I knelt.

"Remove your helm."

I did, and set it beside me on the ground.

Larsa came forward, about at eye level with me. He frowned deeply, and touched a gloved hand to my brow.

"You are troubled. Greatly so. I have never see you so upset, honorable judge."

I jammed my eyes shut. A child, he can see -

"Don't be afraid," Larsa whispered, his voice barely heard in the grand hallway. "You are not alone." Turning to his right, Larsa raised a hand.

Zargabaath emerged from the room, his helm in his hands. I looked up at him with dull, tired eyes and for a moment I saw something akin to my grandfather in him.

Compassion.

"I am to take you aboard the Odin for a few days. Discuss strategy. Have you take a look at her -"

"Let you rest," Larsa said. "I'm only seven years old, and I can tell you're tired. I want you to be at your best!"

I bowed my head, trying to squash the hot flash of tears. I reached forward with a gloved and armored hand and rested it on the boy's dark head.

Tomorrow, I will reside on the Odin with Zargabaath. I've heard that Gabranth is taking the Atomos to the northern regions to support one of our colonies against rebellion, Drace is with Larsa, Ghis with the Leviathen and I really don't give a damn what Bergan does.

I look forward to the time away from command.

Perhaps it will give me time to think upon this whole situation.

As I was going to my quarters tonight, I heard voices down the hall. I stepped into my quarters but kept the door open, listening.

It was Drace and Gabranth, a few doors down. They were… in an argument. I couldn't pick up words, only muffled exclamation. I heard a slam and jumped, then the sound of a judge marching with angry, staccato steps away from the area, and the small, muted grunt of irritation from the woman, Drace.

I almost went to her - but at the last second I realized -

I just couldn't handle the rejection at the moment.

After my time on Odin. I'll talk with them after Odin. I swear it. Nothing was going to happen between now and then.

* * *

This chapter was a real bitch to write. It needed... something special. Its integral you get inside her brain and understand her motives. Plus, its time to start tying the plot together. The next chapter will deal heavily with her relationships with Drace and Gabranth. Thanks so much - 3000 hits, wow! 


	10. Chapter 10

**Spring 48th 703ov**

It all started two days ago, as I was having a drink of cold tea with honey, and staring hopelessly at Zargabaath's chess board.

"Can I give up?"

"No." (amused.)

"But I have no chance against your most superior skills." (disgruntled sarcasm.)

"I don't care. Learn something from your failure." (not phased.)

I sighed.

It was mid morning, and he and I were hunched over the antique glass chess set. Sunlight streamed in through his cabin window and I could hear the engine thrumming beneath us. It was pleasant. The past few days had been pleasant. A perfect break from the drama of Judgly life. It had been a long time since I'd gone three days without wearing the armor.

I was so absorbed in trying to find some way to save myself for certain destruction, I didn't head the small beeping red light on Zargabaath's desk. He reached over and grasped the communicator, bringing it to his ear as he watched me with a slight smirk. But I did watch as the elder man's amused expression melted away to something much darker.

"We'll be there immediately," he said quietly, and set the comm back on its cradle. His eyes met mine and they were tinged with unguarded worry. "There is a situation."

I followed him as fast I could, my shorter legs working to keep stride with the taller man. Upon the navigational deck, several officers were plotting points with red line around the most northern area of the empire.

"Status," Zargabaath growled, his cape swishing behind him dramatically.

"Flyovers have isolated the area and we have a radius of three miles at the crash site-"

"No word from Command in Archades, yet."

"The ship is all but destroyed, sir-"

I grabbed Zargabaaths elbow fiercely, despite my lack of armor and presence and dramatically smaller frame. My look conveyed my question. Despite not wearing his helm, he leaned down to my ear and said somberly -

"The Atomos has crashed near the northern border, four hours ago."

I froze. Oh Gods, Gabranth -

"Shot down?" I hissed, twisting to look at the growing number of read marks on the clear vertical glass map of Archades.

"Unconfirmed. But the craft is on fire. No one inside could possibly still be alive," one of the officers replied stonily.

"Rescue?"

Zargabaath looked at me wearily. "The Odin cannot. We've been ordered to patrol these borders and Archades has not given us leave-"

"We are the farthest craft north of the capitol and the closest to their location," I ground out through clenched teeth. "If there are any survivors-"

"We cannot," Zargabaath shook his head.

I looked to the ground, then back on the elder Judge, my eyes like steel.

He looked at me with compassion tempered with a shared anger below the surface.

"Archades has specifically banned me from taking this craft. Its imperative we maintain this airspace, or so Vayne orders," he grumbled. I scowled.

The next hour was eternally long to me. I felt the slow burn of helplessness crawl its way up my spine. I know the rest of the crew onboard the bridge felt the same way. I paced, out of uniform and without my usual menacing presence, but I didn't care. The crew seemed to respect me all the same, standing aside when I would come to stand beside an officer, glaring at the con with menace. After an hour of that hell, I moved up to the center control stand, and again grasped the elder judge's arm.

"This is madness, Zargabaath," I pleaded with him, "If there are survivors, they won't be alive for long outside in that tundra!" I shook my head desperately. My voice lowered to a whisper. "Please… I don't want to lose him." A look of understanding and sympathy passed over the man, and he grasped my own arm.

"I can't go to him. I can't disobey Vayne," he responded softly.

"But I can."

He tilted his head, a look of exasperation in his dark grey eyes.

"Feneris-"

"This is a class-three airship and that means you have at least two, three transport vessels in your hangar bay," I gushed. "If you have any spare troops -"

"I would go, sir," an airman said quietly to my left.

"As would I, sir. My brother serves aboard that ship."

Zargabaath gave me a dark look, before sighing, the anger washing away from his face.

"I haven't been authorized to release any ships," he said quietly. I felt my heart sink.

"But if we send them before I ask, then they won't be able to say no until you're close to the site, if you go fast enough."

My eyes lit up and my breath caught.

He twitched his head to the left.

"Go. Its your operation, now."

I bowed shallowly, praying my eyes conveyed my sincerity and gratitude. And when I turned around and faced the officers on deck, I knew it was up to me now. I addressed them with an air of authority.

"If you wish to go with me, firstly - clear it with your commanding officer. After that, meet me down in the hangar bay in one hour," I ordered, before leaving the bridge and hauling down the busy southern corridor of the Odin. Making a sharp left hand turn, I entered into the healers wing.

"You've heard?" I asked crisply.

And older woman who wore the Imperial robes of an advanced white mage turned to me, and nodded serenely. She motioned to three other mages, each holding a medical parcel in each hand. No words were necessary, and I nodded in thanks.

The three woman followed me into the corridor and then down the lift to the hangar bay. Already, several dozen men and woman were prepping the three crafts. Upon my arrival, they turned to me and stood at attention. I walked through them, graciously nodded when a man handed me a thermal jacket and earmuffs that wrap around the back of the head. I held them to me and paused in the middle of the group.

"I can only assume you are coming with me out of a sense of duty," I began, "Perhaps a loved one, a friend, on board the Atomos. By this time, we all have the same information. The ship is destroyed. Now, I don't know if anyone is left alive-

"I don't know if we'll find anyone. But… we have to try."

Swallowing grimly, my voice softened.

"If there are any survivors - we are their only hope. Let this be your strength."

A murmur of confirmation rippled through the assembled crowd. I nodded.

"Here's the plan. I want these three ships outfitted for search and rescue - the works. Medical, parkas, weapons to fend off the locals if needed. We'll have three crews - Ships A, B, and C," I commanded, gesturing, "When we arrive - Ship and Crew B, you secure a perimeter around the crash site, Ship and crew C, start setting up cots and medical help in your main bay. I don't know if we'll find anyone, but I want us ready. And finally for those of us willing to brave the flurries - Ship and Crew A will lead the search and rescue.

"Each Crew commander with have a com unit, and I was us in contact at all times. If we lose anyone, let me know _immediately._ Alright -" I breathed deeply, "In an hour's time, I want each of these crafts outfitted for travel - food, supplies, the works. Let's get our people and get them home."

A resounding shout of encouragement came up from the crowd and they dispersed to their tasks. I wiped the back of my hand across my brow and stood there for a moment, still amongst the chaos.

The hour seemed to drag on. I had dressed in thermals, the deep red jacket fitting to my form like a glove as it held the warmth to me. It was stiflingly hot, but I'd need it when I was outside in the raging blizzard of the northern tundra.

And at _last_ I stood on deck of the transport bridge, watching the hanger bay open. And then, them moment where your heart lurches when the transport was dropped before the glossair rings kick in. But then - at long last, the sky was ours. I just prayed we weren't too late.

I don't remember much of the journey, except for pacing, being nervous and being consumed with worry. The Odin had been northbound as it was. Most fortunate - it would have taken hours more had be been near Archades. The skies turned darker as we flew closer to the apex of Ivalice. Snow clouds dotted the sky, and soon we were within them.

"ETA?" I asked lowly, wringing my hands and feeling strangely naked without my armor.

"We are beginning our decent, your honor," my young volunteer navigations officer replied, hands wielding the craft with great care through the worsening storm. Turbulence started to assault the craft and I grasped the back of his chair.

"Steady," I murmured, more for my own benefit than anyone else's. Dusk was falling, and the decaying light barely penetrated the storm. I shook my head with disgust. This was going to be difficult.

"We should be less than a mile from the crash site, lord," Crew B's pilot crackled over the com. "We should be seeing smoke or fires, soon. The snow won't be able to quench the fire as long as it feeds off the fuel from the glossair rings and fuel cells."

For a few tense moments, all we could see was snow and wind.

And then, it was as if a vision of hell was played before us.

The Atomos and all of its support fleet lay to waste in the dunes of snow and rock below. The outside of the crafts were charred and blackened, but even through the snow, the fires could be seen raging from within the crafts.

"Gods," the boy said under his breath.

"Alright," I said over the conn, trying to forge strength into my voice and words. "They're down there, waiting for us. Let's bring them home."

It was difficult to land with the winds. As we circled, we flooded the outskirts of the crash area with light.

"Anything?" I asked, peering into the darkness. My navigator grunted, trying to keep us level as we descended.

"There -" he pointed, leaning over the controls. "Rock cropping. If I was trying to get out of these winds, that's where I'd go."

"You're right. Good," I agreed, patting the boy's shoulder. "We ready?"

"Copy."

"Copy," Crew B confirmed.

"Lets do this. Brace for landing." And it was a bitch of a landing. It took at least twenty minutes to get our people on the ground, and another ten to suit up.

And finally, I stepped out into the frozen snow. Immediately, we were assaulted by the bitter air of the north. I fiddled with my sun magi cite and soon beams of light cut through the darkness. We began our trek through the snow.

The burning fuel of the dying glossair rings filled the air with stench and soot. Stumbling in the darkness, my party and I, about thirty of us total, felt the heady rush of hope take us. The shrapnel of the crash was spread too far - it looked like an explosion, almost - could these ships have been shot down?

One of my party grabbed my arm and pointed, gesturing wildly in the wind and ice. I followed the direction of his arm and saw a series of dark spots on the snow.

Caves. Caves of rock, shelter at least from the snow.

Hand it hand, we all helped each other into the darkened pits. They weren't that deep, and the first one we attempted to search, came up empty. I felt my heart sink.

The next cave resulted in the same and I felt the tremor of terror worm its way into the pit of my stomach. It was the same feeling I experienced when I realized my father had been taken down, and may not have survived.

So, when we entered the third cave -

And we held our breaths.

And when our light caused the people huddling inside to moan and flinch -

Success had never felt so good.

We grabbed onto the survivors, our hands like those of descended angels of the gods. People, half frozen with cold, terror, hopelessness - their eyes just became _alive_ again.

Groping hands, reaching for us, and we took hold of them gladly. I helped unpack the blankets, and started to wrap them around the soldiers and mages. I reached the end of that cave and faltered -

He wasn't here.

_No… please, Gods -_

I shook my head and swallowed my personal fear, and grabbed a couple more of my men who weren't aiding the survivors, and we went back out into the din.

There was another cave to the left. The wind pushed me back and I grunted, feeling the chunks of ice stabbing at my face. I gasped still air as we stumbled into that cave and I blinked rapidly, trying to clear my vision.

I didn't see anything, but I heard it. The soft gasps, and my name, whispered with awe.

Bloodied men and woman, their armor all off, probably because they were too cold to bear. Huddled together in the darkness, trying to conserve warmth.

"Sshhh," I soothed, grabbing an arm here, comfortingly, and touching someone else on the shoulder. In the chaos, someone grabbed my shoulder and shook _me_, pointing to the back. I muddled further into the cave, and felt my body energize. I ripped off my scarves and gloves, discarding them to the snow below, forgotten. I stumbled forward until I gained momentum.

I ran to him, and fell unceremoniously to my knees, sliding on the dirty and snowy cavern floor and grabbed his shivering form to my own.

"I've got you," I breathed into his icy cold ear. He shivered uncontrollably against me, face bloody and smearing on my own cheek, but I didn't care. The moment was pure. The relief was real. This - was real.

"F-F-f-" he tried, half conscious and frozen cold, hands numbly coming to my back as he pulled his head away in disbelief.

I touched his undamaged cheek and felt tears sting my eyes.

"I'm here," I reassured, pulling his frame to my own smaller chest. "I've got you." His blond hair was tinged with ice and blood and he shook uncontrollably.

"Lets get him and the others to Crew C," my navigator said, his young voice bouncing in the cave. He handed me a thick thermal blanket, and I nodded in thanks, still giddy that Gabranth was alive, and in my arms. I slowly detached from his huddled form and wrapped the blanket around him. I wanted to go with him, but their might be others, in other caves. Before I moved to leave, I turned to him one again, if only to reassure myself of his health. The wounded man, slowed down by cold, reached for me. A frozen hand cupped my cheek. I grabbed it and closed my eyes, emotion taking me hostage for a few precious moments.

He was alive.

_And_ he didn't hate me.

It was hard for me to walk away from him, but I couldn't just leave other survivors to freeze to death if they were out there. I met my team at the mouth of the cave.

"There aren't enough of us, we have to get this batch of people back to the ship," one of the men yelled over the wind. I nodded and pulled my gloves back on, and wrapped the scarf back around my face.

"I'll go on ahead, meet me back here ASAP," I ordered, "I have a comm if I need you."

They nodded and I clapped them on the shoulders in victory, and headed out into the storm yet again, my light crystal cutting a path into the darkness.

I searched two more caves with no result. Discouraged, I prayed that the two bundles of people were not he only survivors. A handful of men and woman out of over two hundred…

The third cave was much larger, and deeper. I took a breather and stood in the center, panting, my breath steaming out of me. I looked around, but saw no sign of human life. I shook my head in discouragement, and turned to leave, when I heard something behind me.

Squinting into the darkness, I shuffled deeper into the cave, its ancient dust unsettling around my feet. My beam of light seemed inadequate in the surrounding darkness.

"Hello?" I called, my voice echoing into the dark.

And then.. I felt … warmth? A breeze of warm air blew past my exposed eyebrows. I blinked.

It began to get light.

Not light like sunlight.

Light like red and churning, misting up from the ancient rock floor. I grabbed for the Strahl, my hand on grasping the hilt.

And as the mist expanded, it became quite apparent to me that my father's sword would not aid me. For it was at that moment, the mist came together to form something cohesive and solid.

And it… he… was the size of a small house.

Giant gleaming gold horns, huge… claw like talons, hooves like a bull, it towered before me like a great god. It shook off it's great white mane, and then his red and glowing eyes found mine. I grabbed the hilt of my sword again.

"Peace, child," he spoke. The entire damn cave rumbled and I thought it would surely collapse. I stared up at him in shock for a few moments, his heavy rumbles of breath filling the cavern. Eventually, I found my wits and said. "I am not here to battle you."

"That's… that's… good. You're… very… _large."_

He rumbled again, only harsher this time. I realized the great beast was laughing. I felt like I was in a dream. Eerie red and smoky light all around us, a giant fur covered monster speaking old English to me in the middle of the tundra. It was surreal.

"I have waited for you a long time, harbinger."

I unwrapped the scarf, dropping it to the ground, still staring up at the towering figure. It took a moment for his words to register.

"Ex… excuse me?"

The chains on whatever made up his wrists jingled as he shook himself, each piece of metal half the length of my body. He lifted a mighty claw and pointed it at me. I felt very, very small.

"I've been waiting here for you, wolf's daughter. Longer than you've been alive, surely." He moved to his left, his large hoofs clicking on the stone floor. "I am Hashmal."

"You are very tall," I murmured, still astounded at my lack of presence against the giant.

"This too is true, tis' been long since I've walked this plane." He faced me, his cat like face serene. "I've forgotten how small and weak you are."

"This is insanity. I must have fallen - hit my head. I don't understand," I mused, rubbing a temple absently as I continued to stare up at him. "What _are _you?"

"I served the gods, once," the beast said conversationally, as if we were discussing the evening news, "I was created to oppose Fandaniel the Protector. I was to create the laws that you humans were to follow in this world, in the beginning of Ivalice. But I rebelled against the gods with my leader, Ultima." he shrugged his massive shoulders. "But these are times long past. I am freed from the pit, for now to talk to you."

"Wait wait wait," I stuttered, "How do I know you? How do you know _me?"_

He chuckled again and I felt the ground rumble.

"I knew you in the womb. I knew you in the last life. I know what you will be in the future. And I know," he said conspiratorially, "Your fate as the Fenris, the great wolf spirit for which you are named. Which is why I am here. This was meant. I knew you would be here at this time."

I felt a bit overwhelmed. It was cold, it an odd situation to be in, and I just wanted to go home. There was a thirty foot tall monster discussing how he knew I was going to be here and it was just _wrong_.

"I know you're tired," he crooned, "So lets finish this so you can be on your way to your wounded family."

I glared at him. I felt like I was in a dream.

"Your blond friend?"

"How do you know about him?" I asked softly.

He smirked, it that's possible for a feline monster to do. Maybe this was a dream.

"It was meant to be. All is in motion. Your actions will help shape the future, as those who came before you. Now!" He came towards me and I jumped backwards. The creature smirked, revealing a mouthful of fangs.

"When the time is right, you will call upon me, in Ridorana. I will help you. Until then."

And then, the light, the smoke, became blinding. I shielded my eyes with my arm.

When I opened my eyes again, the world had gone back to normal. I was in a cave. It was cold, and I was shivering.

But - there was a small, red crystal before me.

I knelt, knees dirtying in the ground, and grasped it carefully, as if it were a hot coal.

"Sir?"

My comm hissed to life and I fell backwards, startled. I groaned, fumbling for the pocket latch to get at the equipment.

"I'm here," I said, subdued.

"We've looked everywhere. All the survivors… are on board with team C. What are your orders?"

I knelt on that floor, cradling the proof that I had in fact spoken with a giant mythical being and tried to collect my thoughts in the darkness.

"Let us remain here tonight, and search again in the morning. Perhaps the sunlight will reveal more survivors," I suggested, my breath steaming out over the comm.

"Very good sir. We'll see you in transport C? Do you need assistance?"

"No," I breathed, dazed. "I'll be there soon."

And I was left alone on the floor of an ancient cave. As usual, with more questions than answers. I was weary of this game. It was dark and cold.

It took me a good half an hour to get back to the ships. They were in a circle, gun turrets to the outside. I stumbled up the ramp to the main cargo hold of ship C, the area having been turned into a makeshift clinic. Our three mages made rounds, healing, touching, warming the frozen and wounded warriors. I nodded as I passed people. Random hands reached for my arm, grabbing, touching.

It was the touch of thanks. It was a human thing, to know you were cared for, and to care in return. Glancing at the chonometer, I saw it was well past four in the morning. I stifled a yawn.

"Commander Feneris?"

I whirled around almost comically, trying to end the yawn before whoever it was saw. An older female Magnus handed me charts.

"We have recovered seventy-two people of the estimated two-hundred on board," she said pleasantly, "And hopefully we will find more tomorrow. Due to our position in Ivalice, the sun will not rise here for at least seven hours. I would suggest you and your recovery team rest."

"Aye," I agreed, rubbing my face. "Where is Judge Magister Gabranth? And how is he?"

"He's bruised, with some lacerations on the brow, and thigh. Like everyone else, he was hypothermic when we got here. If we had come any later than we had -"

"I know," I whispered. "But we _did _get here in time. At least, for these people." I sighed, massaging the bridge of my nose. "Where is he now?"

"A cot near the back, behind the lockers," she said understandingly, bowling slightly before taking the charts back and striding gracefully away.

I started to strip the layers of clothing of myself, gathering them in my arms. I set them near the lockers and sighed, running a hand through my dirty, stiff hair. I stopped when I turned the corner.

Gabranth lay beneath a pile of blankets, dressed in a thin white v-necked clinical tunic; his brow swollen and angry read, but healed. He looked smaller than normal, more vulnerable. Not the fearsome Judge Magister who taught me how to slay kingdoms. I grabbed a folding chair from behind and dragged it over to the bedside. I sat heavily, head in my hands. The lights in the chamber began to dim as the main battery was shut down for the night.

I reached into my imperial vest and withdrew the strange red crystal from earlier - reassuring myself that what had happened was, in fact real, and that I was still sane and hopefully not hallucinating. One does not want their commanding officer to be seeing monsters that aren't really there. The crystal glowed faintly in my hands, casting a red tint to my face.

"Uhhn," Gabranth moaned, his head moving from side to side on the flimsy pillow. I looked up at him, and pocketed the crystal. Swallowing, I tentatively reached beneath the pile of covers, and found his hand. It was cool to the touch. I bowed my head briefly. If only I'd gotten here sooner.

I rubbed his thumb absently, staring off into space as I was lost to my dark thoughts. I don't know how long I stayed like that, but I started when I felt his larger hand curl weakly around mine. I was pulled from my reverie and looked at my charge.

His eyes were dull and tired, and his eyelids were heavy, I could tell. I swallowed and squeezed his hand nervously.

"Hey," I said lamely.

He tried to speak, but the words were caught in his dry throat. I reached for the cot side table with my free hand, and grasped the glass of water there. I fumbled with the drawer and withdrew a straw for him. I leaned forward and held the glass near him.

He leaned forward weakly, and found purchase on the straw with dry and cracked lips, sipping gently. A moment later he sat back and managed to clear this throat. He breathed deeply.

"Thank you," he whispered. I nodded, setting the glass down and leaning forward.

"Do you remember what happened?" I asked softly.

He furrowed his brow, closing his eyes as he licked his lips.

"I… there was - an explosion. Fire - there was no time." he shook his head against the pillow, before opening his eyes and staring off. "On all ships. At the same time." He looked at me. "Sabotage?"

"I don't know yet. We only recovered one engineer, and he's not conscious."

Gabranth nodded slowly, eyes closing again. He was still.

I stood, and began to let go of his hand when his eyes flew open again, and he tightened his lax grip.

"No-" he gasped at me. "D… don't go… please…" he winced, trying to swallow again, and a tremor ran up his frame.

"Let me go get the Magnus, I'll be right back," I soothed. He only moaned, and looked as if he was in pain.

"N-no, I'm just - cold," he stammered.

"Right," I said sarcastically. "Stay here, no wandering off. I'll be back," I told him, standing and leaning over him, placing his hand on his chest. He made a whining noise and I touched his shoulder before rounding the locker and finding the nearest white mage.

"How are we doing?" I asked, watching the clock strike five am. She turned to me with tired eyes.

"We've saved them all from the cold. Now, they just need rest." She smiled in a manner I'd seen my mother do once. Tired, bone tired - but successful.

"What are the symptoms of extreme cold?"

She paused, clicking her tongue. "Aches, chills, sometimes fever."

"So its normal if they feel a little sore?"

"Oh yes. Why? Is the lord Gabranth uncomfortable?"

"I believe so," I nodded. "And a little cold."

"Here, give him this," she reached into her robes and handed me a tiny vial. "Strong potion, with a relaxant. You should have some yourself, it will help you rest."

"Many thanks," I answered, and strode through the quieting hangar bay to the locker area, and Gabranth.

He was dozing, half awake, and shivering despite the blankets. I stood in front of my chair and lifted his head, waking him.

"Take a few sips of this," I soothed, smiling down at him. He blinked blearily at me, then, without hesitation, allowed me to tilt the vial to his chapped lips. He swallowed with some difficulty, and eased back to the pillow. I glanced back to my chair, and decided -what the hell. I downed the rest of the vial, and sat heavily again, massaging my temple and waited for the drowsiness to hit me.

"You really came," he drawled, eyes rolling around with disorientation.

"Of course I came," I said, mostly to myself as I continued massaging my temples. "What did you think I'd do? Stand by and let you die? Idiot." I glared up at him. "I'm not Bergan, you know."

"I… know," he slurred, potion hitting him. "Fen-feneris-"

"Yeah," I groaned.

"…missed you."

I looked at the metal of the cot's legs and nodded heavily.

"…miss you," he moaned again, voice breathy.

"I'm here, Gabranth," I assured, leaning back in the chair and crossing my arms.

"No -" he sounded upset. I opened my eyes. "Please…?"

"Please what?" I asked, assuming I was talking to a man asleep. But no, he did manage to pry his eyes open, and those grey blue eyes regarded me with something akin to begging. He struggled, and managed to reach an arm from the blankets, towards me. I raised my eyebrows and took his extended hand. He tugged weakly on me. I frowned, but leaned forward.

"Up."

I paused.

"I don't think its politically correct right now-"

"Please," he asked, softer now.

I rolled my eyes, and let go of his hand. I pulled the blankets aside and sat, removing my vest and placing it gently on the chair, followed by my outdoor boots. As I worked on the never-ending ties and laces, I felt his hand on my arm -

The same kind of touches from earlier. So primal, so terribly human.

Freed of vest and boots, I cast one last look to the walls of lockers around us and groaned, fearing this would be the end of me as a political figure if anyone saw. Then again, all of us here were just happy to be alive.

I slid beside the taller man on the thin, poorly padded cot. I could feel the chill of his skin through the thin medical pants and shirt he wore and he moaned loudly as he felt my warmth come beside him, turning to me and curling up. Content to use me as a heated body pillow, I felt a blush color my cheeks as he entwined his limbs around me.

"Warm," he murmured, his chapped lips against my ear and I shivered from the sensation. "Thank… than-"

"Quiet," I hushed him. His shivering slowed, and his jaw fell open against throat; I jammed my eyes shut as his breath caressed my skin, swallowing the feeling away. And the world slowed to the howling wind outside the ships exterior walls, the sounds of people sleeping, and Gabranth's breathing.

I slept.

Too tired to sleep a soldiers doze, I was roused long after by voices near the lockers. I opened an eye, and saw my young navigational officer speaking is hushed tones to one of the white mages.

"What is it?" I whispered, lest I wake my resting companion.

"Sir!" He said, surprised, and came to the bedside. "I just wanted to inform you sir… that dawn broke some time ago and… you were sleeping-"

"Its alright, what's going on?"

"We spent two hours on foot, and with Hawks in the air. No… no signs of other survivors."

I closed my eyes in grief. So many dead.

"Also - the Odin has been granted leave to come here, aid with the investigation. She hailed us from her current position. She'll be here in a few hours," the boy reported, his face wind burnt and his copper colored hair sticking in all directions. "They'll be here soon."

"Good. Get our people back inside. We'll investigate when they get here," I croaked, my voice scratchy from sleep.

"Sir!" The boy acknowledged, and moved away.

I stretched slowly, reveling in the sensation of being rested. Gabranth didn't stir, and I managed to detangle myself from his heavy limbs. I palmed his forehead - he was warmer now, and resting soundly. I felt alright with leaving him. I made my rounds, checked up on everyone. They were serving soup and hunks of bread from our supplies near the front of the hangar. I grabbed my gear, some food, and this book, and tried to purge the stress from my system. And now, an hour later, I have all this scrawled out in my journal. Gods know what we'll find when we go onboard what's left of the Atomos. I will go with Zargabaath.

If it was sabotage… who the hell is it? Bastieel? Someone else? Gods help us.

* * *

- **Hashmal, Bringer of Order**: Created by the gods, in opposition to Fandaniel the Protector, to create the laws from humanity to follow. He joined Ultima in rebelling against the gods. But he was condemned to the fiery pit, only to emerge within the Pharos at Ridorana. Originally the Luvaci controlling Vormav Tingel, in _Final Fantasy Tactics_ (translated as Hashmalum). Element of earth, symbolized by Leo. (wikipedia)

**A/Ns- **What to say. This was a long one, spent a lot of time on this today. I'm working _really _hard to make sure this story is Canon - or as canon as can be. It _will_ work with Final Fantasy XII, and could have happened without turning FFXII into an AU. This fiction has really become a project, more so than I had originally intended. While it doesn't garner a huge fan base and doesn't get 90bajillion reviews, its got a crap.ton. of people reading it. Yay :) I'm glad I can make the characters have meaning for you.

If anyone is interested, I've been doodling like a crazy person to flesh out the emotional-ness in several of these scenes. You can view them on my deviantart gallery - the link is in my profile. Enjoy! Give feedack. Love the starving artist/writer.


	11. Chapter 11

**Spring 50th 703ov**

The following afternoon, after my last entry, I met with Zargabaath. The three cargo ships were iced and covered in snow. The afternoon blizzard settled in the tundra as I stepped outside. Even wrapped up like a prized package, the frozen air penetrated my clothed defenses and scalded my skin. But, it was worth the discomfort to see the mighty Odin descend from the clouds to our location, her engines roaring even over the howling wind. I awaited her as her hangar bay opened and a snow speeder skidded out onto the ice - they had come prepared.

At first, I didn't recognize the judge magister as he walked out onto the blindingly bright snow. He had most wisely forsaken his heavy armor for more warm material, and he too was bundled up with a hat on his head and his grey hear tucked against him. However - he still donned the cape, the imperial crest of the magister flowing wildly in the wind. It took him a moment to find me, as I was almost completely covered in linens, but then, he strode purposefully towards me, back straight. Even under the eyes of the volunteer helpers, I didn't care - when he and I collided, I grasped him arm firmly, and his hand rested against back in silent communication.

_Thank you for coming -_

_I know. We'll do this together._

I pointed towards the smoldering crafts of the Atomos, and the elder judge nodded grimly. We trekked to the broken and battered ships, followed by our rescue teams. Black smoke billowed lazily into the white sky, though no flames were licking at the ship anymore. The first of the Atomos crafts was too hot to be boarded, as the smoke laid testament. So, we marched to the next craft. Its twin was lying upright, though the entire back half of the craft was split and slowly ripping away from the main hull.

Zargabaath and I entered first, and cautiously. We pulled the emergency hatch open, and lit our sun magicite. Beams of golden light peered into the smoky darkness. I felt my stomach clench when our light found the first body - a man, burned and blackened within his armor, curled in on himself. Gods. His hands, they reached upwards, as if looking for something, and remained frozen in time, the pain of his movements transcending his own death.

I looked away.

We couldn't get very far into the craft, as the damage made the metal corroded and broken; sharp as blades. I held my light to an interior wall, and shook my head, pointing to a series of marks.

"This damage looks like it came from within, Zargabaath," I cursed, "the blast radius is extending outward."

And that meant, that if blasts came from within all ships, at the same time - it was pre-conceived. It was the workings of someone who not only planned this, but was able to execute the destruction without anyone finding out.

Somebody had executed this plan. Someone with enough knowledge and know how of archadian crafts and military, had done this.

Zargabaath and I shared a grave look, before turning around, and ushering the crew out of the dying ship. We recessed onboard the Odin. I peeled the layers of sweat and grime-soaked cloth away from my skin with distaste, dumping the scarf and outer layers into a waste bin while we gathered in the hangar bay. Feeling relatively more human, I stalked behind Zargabaath, the two of us making haste to his personal quarters.

"I have ill news," he grumbled, sitting heavily in the same chair we'd played chess in. I took my seat opposite him, gazing at the chess board - it was still in the same place we'd left off.

"The Atomos wasn't the only craft to go down last fortnight," the elder judge sighed, brushing his disheveled hair out of his eyes. "Bergan's craft was also attacked. Fortunately, they were docked for repairs and while he was supposed to be on board for consolation, he was with Vayne. His crew wasn't so lucky."

My mind felt numb to the whole situation.

"It appears someone is trying to dismantle Judge Magisters, or at least a good helping of our military," I accused, tired eyes on the chess set. "You've been round' longer. Has this ever happened before? Gods."

"Not to my knowledge. We must compensate immediately."

"I agree," I said, trailing my hand over the board and pieces, "Has lord emperor been informed?" I took my rook and moved it next to my knight. Zargabaath scoffed at me and my attempt to resume the game.

"Of course he has. He recalls us all home, for now. The outer patrols will be maintained by the other higher ranking judges, but not the magisters." Zargabaath reached forward, aggravated expressed compounded in his movements as he moved his queen to take the rook. I looked up at him, eyebrows stretching. In his anger -

"How fairs your keep?"

I trailed my hand over the space my felled rook had once stood and closed my eyes.

"We rescued seventy of the two-hundred. They are being taken care of."

"And Gabranth?"

Looked up at him again.

"We got here in time." A tremor of emotion crawled its way into my voice and I almost grimaced. I tried to quell the feeling, and stared at the chessboard again. I looked up at him, and then back to my hand. I took my knight - the last one, and moved it dangerously close to his queen, distracting it from my poor failing defense.

"Thank the gods for _some_ good news," the man grumbled, "I was worried. I received communication from Drace - she was desperate for information on either of you. I told my comm to alert her to what news we had."

Distracted, he moved his queen to box in my knight, taking the bait. The man reached next to him and withdrew a flash of something - a red liquid sloshed within. He popped the cork and poured himself a glass. He offered me some with a look and I shook my head.

For a few moments, neither of us spoke. I could feel the anger, the disquiet, burning through the elder man and he sipped his wine generously. I stared at the board, the pieces coming into focus and then blurring again as I struggled to grasp my feelings and thoughts. I stared at his king - so noble, etched of glass, but poorly protected as his line of pawns were already mingling with my own. His powerhouses - his rooks, bishops - they too were poised for attack, nearer to my king and felled queen's space than his own. My defenses were waning - if only - I could -

His queen's attention was on my knight. Not my bishop, carefully hidden behind the line of pawns. If I could take his own bishop down - as his anger distracted him -

I lifted my knight, and it felt heavy in my hands. I brought it close to my face, my dirty, human fingernails blemishing the cloudy gray glass piece. The intricacy of the horse's mane was beautiful, though nicked at marred with years of use. Cuts or no, the piece would save his king, if I could just maneuver him with tact. I kissed his noble brow, and took Zagrabaath's bishop.

Zargabaath made a cluck of amusement as he rubbed the wine glass's rim. Without thinking, his aged hand took his queen, and captured my knight. I felt an unpleasant twinge in my right shoulder and I rubbed it absently as the man drained the rest of his glass. I flexed the muscle and eased the tension away.

I nodded, and took my bishop. I claimed his queen and looked up at him. It was not a victory, but it was something that could lead in that direction, save the least.

"Check."

Disbelief -

And then he looked at me, something in his eyes bordering on pride.

"I didn't even see that coming, Feneris."

His comm buzzed to life, startling me. Zargabaath reached for it while I massaged the bridge of my nose and ran a hand through my still dirty hair. The elder man made a noise of acceptance and hung up the receiver.

"We are ordered home. Mother Archades will send recovery ships when the time is more prudent, so says the emperor," Zargabaath stood and moved to his desk. "Let us recall the three cargo crafts back to the hull of the Odin. You can handle this task I prepare for our departure?"

"Of course, your honor," I nodded, and made haste to the bridge.

It didn't take too terribly long to get the three crafts into the Odin's awaiting hangar bay. Now, with more staffing, the first wave of mages and crew could finally rest on our nine hour flight back to Archades. And I could finally _shower. _It was glorious.

After bathing, and feeling relatively more like a human being than a sweat-soaked monkey, I grabbed onto the guest room wall's stability as the Odin began her accent. I watched outside the thin window, frost creeping up it's frame. Darkness had fallen, and there wasn't much to see as the ship climbed into the snowy night sky.

As the craft leveled off, I started to dress in my formal irons. It was the first time in several days since I'd felt the judge's suit on my muscles, and as I added each piece of armor, the weight grew. It was not bothersome, and actually felt good to my muscles. It felt good to be strong. It was the first time in many weeks the suit was a welcome weight, emotionally and physically. After spending a few days powerless to know if those you cared for were alive, and if you could even find them - the stability of knowing I had power in the suit was a comfort.

As I stood before the bathroom mirror, I added the last piece. The world went dark for a moment as the helm slid over my face, and brightened as my eyes found their purchase. The fearsome face of Judge Magister Feneris glared back at me.

The hallways were a little overcrowded as those healed from the Atomos started to leak out into the Odin. As my metal jingled with each step through the corridors, the people parted immediately. I noted the looks of gratitude and respect afforded to me. I did not acknowledge them. I was back to being a Judge Magister now. Rarely was I without my armor, and now, it was returned. I could physically feel the humanity of my character take second tier to the power and presence of the what made me Judge.

I strode into the healing wing. There were far more mages abound than were available to me during the rescue, and for that I was glad. Everyone was resting comfortably. And older man with reddish graying hair started towards me as I entered the quiet of the sleeping patients.

"My lord judge," he said softly.

"Status?" I asked lowly out of respect for those resting.

The man turned towards the softly lit quarters, raising a hand in the direction of the cots that lined the walls.

"All that you brought onboard are accounted for, and resting comfortably. Some will recover more quickly than others."

"Do you need anything?" I asked, scanning the beds for Gabranth, but not finding him.

"I believe we will be fine until we reach Archades. Then, we will transport those still in need of assistance to a more accommodating healer's chamber," the man supplied, taking a look at his pocket cromo, before placing it back in the folds of his robes. I nodded.

"Judge Gabranth?"

The man pointed towards one of the doors to the left.

"In a private observation room, second to the left."

I made for the door, pausing to ground myself as the Odin hit a patch of turbulence. Equipment rattled in its holdings for a moment, before the craft's course evened out.

For someone bearing dozens of pounds of metal attached to my limbs, I managed to enter the small room relatively quietly, though the rumble of the engines helped mask my approach.

My mentor was on his side, arm up under the pillow and facing the door. The room was cast in blue shadows, and a small yellow light glowed faintly from beside the cot, on the side table.

He looked so small without his armor and blades. Pale against the grey sheets and pale in the dark room. It unnerved me for a moment.

"Feneris…"

His eyes were open as he lifted his head from the pillow. I hesitated for a few beats, then moved forward slowly. I practically towered over the low-risen cot, and looked down at him once I stopped at the bedside.

He didn't say anything, but I could tell he was more aware now than he had been earlier. His blond eyelashes fluttered as he swallowed. He leaned up on his arm and forward.

"Someone tried to kill you," I stated bluntly, the dark words bouncing inside of my helm.

The judge looked away for a moment, past me and into his own thoughts.

"Let us pray we can stop another attempt, should it be made. We are recalled back to Archadia - we will arrive by dawn," I informed him in monotone. For a moment, I remembered the curled figure of the burned man - it could have been Gabranth, just as easily. I closed my eyes and swallowed, knowing that the emotion could go unnoticed in my mask.

I heard the soft pad of fingers on metal, more than I felt it. I opened my eyes and tilted my helm downwards a few more degrees. Gabranth's hand was splayed on the second interlocking piece of metal that shielded my torso, right above my stomach. He traced the intricate carvings and adornments for a moment, before pausing and resting his palm.

"You… you are not the fledgling I left behind," he said quietly, reminding me of Albias, when he said those words before.

And again, I repeated -

"I am a Judge Magister, your honor."

He looked up at me, piercing eyes the color of an approaching ice storm in the darkened room.

"Take off your helm," he ordered quietly. I hesitated, then reached over his hand to my head, and gently lifted the piece away and held it by my side.

"Do you have other obligations before we reach Archades?" he asked formally.

"I must write up the reports of the attack to present to the council, senate, and emperor before we arrive, and I should best contact Drace lest she have my head upon reaching dock," I mulled, tracing my molars with my tongue. "Beyond that, I will have time."

"Then sit," he let his hand fall from me and motioning to the chair poised at the other side of the room.

And so, I sat beside him and waited. For a few moments, nothing was said. But then, Gabranth rolled again onto his side and balled up the pillow, resting against it.

"Tell me how you've been. And tell me about how you're suddenly an esteemed commander -" he paused, thinking, "And tell me how you saved your ships from a Rozzarian Warhead. For Gods's sakes."

And then, something lifted from me. Angst of the past few weeks, maybe. At first, my words were hesitant and cold, but as he just sat and listened intently, it started to poor out. The pressure of command, my concerns with the safety of Larsa (though I left out the Bastieel, and Balthier, for now), and that _damned_ Bergan, trying to be my friend if only to cause tension within the Magisters. I told him about lighter things - some concepts for drawings and ship designs I'd sketched in my spare time, playing chess and other games with Zargabaath. It all just flowed forward, and by the time I had done speaking, I could sense that time had passed. Gabranth hadn't said a word, but his eyes were focused and intent upon me.

I blinked. I hadn't spoken that much with, or better stated, at, Gabranth in… weeks. A small smile claimed his lips.

"I have two things to say - well, three," he said softly, rubbing his scruffy unshaven cheek. "Firstly - I'm sorry I snapped at you; about Ffamran. I know you wouldn't do anything to jeopardize the boy on purpose, though I wish we had brought him back to his father that night. And I'm sorry it took a near death experience for me to get over my own sullen irritation and apologize.

"Secondly - I swear to the Gods themselves, if this happens again, I do believe Drace will murder you and I where we stand. As you start to grasp the intricate politics of Archades, you must realize - we are a team, even if we don't agree politically on the same matters. But we must _always_ talk with one another, and know that business is business and that we mustn't take anything too personally." He reached for me, touching my armored thigh. "I have grown to respect and enjoy your presence among us, Feneris. I find I don't like not having you around, even if you are smaller than the rest of us."

I felt a smirk burn me and I tried to hide it, glancing down.

"And finally-" he said softly, "I'm very proud of you. We… are equals, now. In every way."

I looked back up to him, blinking rapidly to subdue the sudden burn of emotion that crawled its way through my gut. A look that I rarely saw on him crossed over his features. I don't know how to describe it, only that it's the most at peace I see him. His eyes relax and his frame eases. I wonder if this is what the man called Noah was like before he was made Magister.

"Thank you, your honor," I said quietly.

Behind us, the door whooshed open. I turned to Zargabaath entering the small room.

"Gabranth," he said not unkindly, removing his helm. "I am most pleased that you are safe."

"Indeed," Gabranth replied, "And I and my fleet are in your debt."

"Thank us both," he motioned to me, "Without Feneris's fierce determination, you would have all perished before the Odin could even have gotten here." He came forward and placed a friendly hand on my shoulder. "We need to start hashing out reports soon. Would you rather do it now? Or rest first?"

"Now, would be preferable, while its fresh in my mind," I told him.

"Then, I will order some dinner for us and have you meet me in my quarters shortly," the elder man suggested, nodding to us both before striding out of the tiny space. I closed my eyes for a moment and tried to scatter the feeling of foreboding that had taken residence in my chest. The rustle of sheets pulled me from my thoughts and I made a sound of protest as Gabranth swung his legs over the edge of the cot. I jerked back to avoid hurting him with my sharp knee points on my armor.

"I will accompany-"

"Absolutely not. I forbid it. You need to rest-"

"I am your teacher-" he growled.

"And you just told me we are _equal_ did you not?" I smirked. He glared at me, hunched over while he gripped the edge of the cot. We stared at each other for a moment, a battle of wills. Then, the eye contact broke as he glanced at my torso and armor, before coming back to my eyes. He lifted a hand quickly, and I flinched involuntarily. The movement made him wince, as if reminding him of the rift that had come between us these last weeks. More slowly, he reached for my head. His fingers ran through my hair affectionately and I closed my eyes, allowing myself to savor the sensation. I'd always loved the feeling of fingers against my scalp. My father had used to braid my hair when I was younger, and I always enjoyed the simple touch.

Gabranth's hand came to rest at the base of my scull, and he leaned forward, touching me as safely as an unarmed man could a magister. His temple brushed against mine and we sat like that while leaned forward, in a Judge's embrace, for several minutes, just breathing.

"I'm so glad you're alright," I whispered softly.

"As am I."

Afraid I'd cry, I stood , his hand sliding down my ear and neck as I rose. I didn't look at his eyes, but I pulled the chair back to the other side of the room and replaced my helm upon my head. Protected, I turned back to him. I pointed wordlessly to the pillow. A flit of a smirk could be seen before he leaned back obediently against the mattress. I grabbed his shoulder quickly and squeezed before turning and exiting the room.

Zargabaath and I mulled over our reports for hours that night, and eventually, I chose to relax against his office's couch and take a brief nap before we landed in Archades. I woke about an hour away from the capitol by the annoying buzz of the comm before he could grab it from its cradle. Exhausted, but awake, I pulled out this book, scribbled as much as I could remember, and now we are upon Archades.

Let us pray we can find the culprits behind these acts. If it is Bastieel, then my hand will be forced. I will not allow my emperor's military leaders to be cut down like cattle. I will make contact with Balthier as soon as I have time away from the prying eyes of Vayne and the Archadian guard.

It will be good to see Drace again, as well.

**Spring 52nd 703ov**

It _was _good to see Drace again, though at first, impersonally.

Gabranth was not strong enough to bear his armor, so when we docked, he stayed onboard the Odin until the Archadian Grand White Magnus could see to him, on Gramis's orders. Thus, it was Zargabaath and I who marched into the imperial chambers. Drace was awaiting us, with Larsa at her side. Larsa abruptly ran past his guardian to me, clinging to my lower leg like a lonely pup.

"Lord Feneris! I was so worried! Drace told me _everything_," the young prince gasped, wringing my hand.

"She did?" I asked, amused.

"Oh yes," the elder female judge's voice carried to me as she strode forward. "We were most concerned. Lord Larsa and I are visiting Gabranth onboard the Odin." I nodded and the little boy sped past towards the docks. Drace was considerably slower, and grabbed my arm.

"We will speak later. Gabranth…?"

"We talked," I supplied.

"Good."

And that was that. Zargabaath and I were ushered into a private conference with Emperor Gramis, followed by council with Gramis, Ghis, Bergan (whom, for the most part, didn't seem too concerned with the death of most of his men), a select few senators, and Vayne. We went over every detail, deliberated over a course of action, and argued for _hours_. Literally, hours. Against my will, I felt my body grow heavy and my eyelids turn lead. I fought the battle as well I could.

At long last, Gramis seemed to become aware of our exhaustion, mine in particular. We were given recess from judgeship for a the afternoon and evening. I praised the Gods.

Zargabaath and I parted ways, I stumbled to my quarters, stripped everything in a heap on the floor, and collapsed in my bed.

It felt like no more than moments had passed before I heard knocking on my bedroom door. I opened an eye and cursed, considering for a moment pretending to be dead, but then sighing and lifting my body from the mattress.

I stumbled to the door, opening it fully and leaning heavily on the frame.

"Drace. Gabranth. To what do I owe this delight?" I groaned, squinting. "Why is Gabranth even up walking around?"

"I'm not dead, you know," he huffed, crossing his arms over his simple black shirt and dark sleep pants. I glared at him, stretching and arcing against the doorframe with a squeak.

"I was making some soup and bread for him in his quarters, and we thought perhaps you'd join us," Drace invited, jabbing a finger in the air in towards his cabin. I scratched my chest through my thin black undershirt and winced, feeling exhausted and disoriented. Glancing at the chromo, it was only early evening, and I'd slept bare more than a few hours. But, then again, it had been a long time since I'd spent time with the two judges, and I missed it.

"Let me - find clothing," I grumbled, moving stiffly back into my room towards the closet. Sliding the door over, I reached into my drawers and grabbed blindly for sleep pants and a thicker shirt, dressing disorientedly and then moving back into the common room. They had already left, and I winced as I walked into the bright corridor.

I fumbled with the universal code and stepped quickly into Gabranth's quarters. Gabranth decorated sparsely; the majority of his personal affects were half read books left open on the coffee table and counter, with papers and parchment spread around them. He was sitting on his own L-shaped couch in mirror formation to my own, sipping a mug of seaming liquid. He looked to me when I entered, and then was distracted as Drace made an irritated noise from the kitchen as she prepared her meal.

I wasn't particularly hungry, which was odd. I think I was simply too stressed out. I sank heavily into the couch across from the elder judge, my head lolling as I worked the kinks out of my neck.

"Here," Drace said, handing me a cup of soup as well, with a hunk of bread. Sadly, nothing in the world looked less appetizing and my stomach rolled at the thought of food. I swallowed.

Drace sat beside Gabranth and chatted comfortably about something Larsa was doing during his tutoring while sipping her soup. Gabranth leaned towards her with interest, and I could practically feel the relief coming off of Drace in waves.

It was then that I pondered the nature of their relationship in earnest. There was chemistry, but I had never seen either act upon it. Closeness, intimacy of space, gentle touches. But - never an open hug, or hand on arm. They acted like best friend to best friend, while both having crushes upon each other, but never acting upon it.

I sipped on my soup, and tried to looked entertained in their conversation for sake of recreating the normalcy we hadn't shared in the past few weeks. Things felt more normal after an hour or so, and it was hard to believe a few days ago a situation like this would have been awkward as hell with my friends.

I set the mug and bread down on the table as Drace chattered on, hoping she wouldn't notice my lack of appetite. The sound of her light banter and occasional chuckle from the lower voice slowly undid my wakefulness, and I was content to doze. However, I lost my sense of control when I faded into complete unconsciousness.

And I was dreaming - only I didn't know I was dreaming. I was locked in the dying Atomos while men screamed and burned and died. I was trapped here, along with them, and I was going to die with them -

"Feneris!"

My eyes flew open and I inhaled sharply, disoriented.

"Its alright," a disjointed voice said to my left. The low rumble of thunder shook the air and I tried to swallow, my throat dry. Gabranth was beside me, I was leaned up against his shoulder while he read a book. Drace was nowhere to be seen.

"I - how long have I slept?" I rasped, quivering. Gabranth set down his worn text to the coffee table and, very unlike Gabranth, slid an arm around my smaller frame, rubbing my shoulder.

"A few hours. You were out cold. I didn't want to wake you. And…" he paused, trying to find the right words, "I didn't mind having you here after these past weeks."

"I'm glad you only like me for my twitching sack of unconscious self," I murmured, but allowed myself to lean against him. It felt good. I rested my head on his shoulder. That felt good too.

"What are we?" I asked softly.

"What do you mean?"

"Are we pawns? Are we just flecks of flesh and blood, here and then gone, and what? For nothing?" I lifted my hand up and bunched it into a fist before allowing it to relax. "Someone told me that I was meant to be here, and it was decided before I was even born. I… I don't think I like that concept, Gabranth."

I could almost feel him frown.

"Who told you that?"

"It's a long story."

I felt him lean towards me, his breath on my brow as his cheek rested gently against my head.

"You can trust me."

And there in lay my dilemma. Gabranth? Yes I could trust Gabranth. Or rather - Noah - the human part of Gabranth. But if Vayne over heard, or learned of my actions…

If Gabranth was forced to choose between my intuition and the order of the emperor, I knew what that outcome would be. I sighed softly, and let myself doze against him for a while, evading the topic.

A while later, I grew sore from being balled up, and stood, shakily. Gabranth followed as I wobbled to the front of the cabin, blood sugar low and causing me to feel faint. I winced, and turned around to find myself staring at Gabranth's darkly clad chest. It rose and fell evenly, mesmerizing. A loud clamor of thunder shook the building and I don't know if I moved forward or he did, but soon my nose was buried in his chest and his arms were tight around me.

It was _safe._

"I don't want to leave this," I heard my voice rumble, completely without my consent.

"Leave what?"

I pulled back, and looked to the side.

"I like feeling like the world isn't entirely on my shoulders, and there's somewhere safe to hide away for awhile." I looked at him quickly before my gaze darted away. "Thank you."

He didn't say anything for a few moments and I wondered if I'd overstepped my boundaries. I winced at my lack of control, wishing I hadn't said a word, and turned to go. But, I felt his hand on my shoulder. It slid down my bicep to my forearm and finally, my wrist. He thumbed the light switch by the door, casting the room in darkness. He tugged gently upon me and pulled me to the left. Blinded by the lack of light (I'm dearly photosensitive - a bright flash or loss of light and I'm hopelessly without sight for several minutes), I followed without question. He led me and released me, pushing me downwards. I stumbled and sank into a mattress. Had I been more coherent and not quite so stressed out, I might have found the situation awkward, but; he was beside me so fast I didn't have time to think. And then, all of the world was just warmth. He slid an arm under the pillow my head rested on and bushed my cheek gently with his nose. And it was then, that I was lost. The rain, the clean smell of him, the soft of a real bed, and for once not questioning anything but just accepting that I was in fact _alright_ for the moment - it was good. It was a release. It was sanctuary.

I woke first that following morning. I was on my stomach, and Gabranth was rolled away, breath rattling in even pushes of his back against my side. A dim light filled the room, and still it rained, the sound almost lulling me back to sleep.

Gabranth's bed quarters were like mine, only more naked of personal affects. My eyes searched the room and I found that other than oddly scattered books, some cleaning oil for metal, and a set of pens, it was nothing but an elaborate dormitory. But - there, on the dresser - from one of the handles, dangled a necklace, with a forged metal bird, wings upwards. It glinted faintly in the dim light. I glanced back to my bedmate, whom had apparently allowed me to steal most of the black sheets during the course of the night as they lay wadded up beneath me.

I rose and climbed over him, managing not to wake him. I stretched silently, feeling and hearing several tendons pop. I leaned over my companion, pulling the covers back over him and smiling gently as he stilled his movements.

I padded into the hallway and made haste to my own quarters - I wasn't so sure I wanted all of Archades to know about my sleeping habits.

And when I returned to my room, my comm light was beeping - I had received a message sometime that evening. I hit the receiver and waited.

"Dear Judge, it's your friendly neighborhood sky pirate," Balthier's voice drawled over the static of the comm, "And I need to see you soon. It seems we'll need some close watching over you and your kin - I can tell you that the judges are in danger." _Well, obviously, as two of their ships were attacked, _I thought grimly.

"Oh - and I fear that your fatherly Zargabaath is the next target, courtesy of my father."

I froze.

"Let us meet tomorrow in Lower Archades, plain cloths. (a sigh,) things are getting terrifyingly complicated."

I had about an hour before my first court session today, and I wrote all this down in an attempt to calm my nerves.


	12. Chapter 12

**Spring 55th 703ov**

Forgive me - I am exhausted. This will be brief.

I met with Balthier however many mornings ago it was - in the dirt and despair of the lower streets within Archade's high walls. At first, I didn't even see him. Dressed in dark robes and gloves to protect from the dank spring drizzling rain that fell, it was Balthier's arm that shot out and snatched me into the alleyway that found us together. There was an intensity to him, and he pinned me against that wall, covering my face by putting an arm up beside my head. I froze, his actions panicking me.

"What is it?" I hissed.

"Quiet," he murmured, his taller form encaving mine as he brought his own robes up around us. "Speak quietly. There are eyes down here that would-"

A rumble of thunder shook the area and a few blocks away, a woman's scream cut through the chill air. Murmurs went up through the pedestrians and most wandered towards whatever was happening down the road. We glanced up and away; the young sky pirate grabbed my hand and tugged me towards the street. We skittered over the wet coble and hurried into a small, dirty pub. We sat hastily in a dark corner, and I rubbed my dry hands together for warmth. Balthier reached forward and paused their motion, grabbing both my smaller hands with his.

"I'm glad you're alright," he said sincerely. I frowned. He squeezed his hand, then pulled it away to massage the bridge of his nose. The young man looked distressed - bags under the eyes, gaunt face.

"There are people in lower Archades now - associated with Bastieel. These people, _Kira_," he accentuated, "are masters of infiltration. I just - they are so gods damned hard to pin down-" He groaned, expression unbefitting of a young man, lines creasing his skin, "I know that house Solidor and its allies are in grave danger. And it scares me, it really does." A dirty, large breasted woman materialized next to us with two ales, for which I certainly didn't order. Balthier just grunted, taking one and downing half its contents before wiping his mouth. I gingerly took the other and set it before me in an attempt to get the burly woman to go away. She sneered at me, and sauntered off. I frowned.

"And so - here's what I know," the boy continued, waving his hand in the air, "Bastieel hates the Empire because someone is either manipulating Gramis, or it is Gramis himself, who's interested in these rocks of sorts - same rocks my father's been studying. However, Bastieel claims no hand in trying to assassinate the Emperor during winter festival, nor the attacks on the judges. However, that gorgeous yet infuriating Bastieel woman tells me that whomever is attacking Archadian hierarchy is going to try… try and dismantle the Judges before they go for house Solidor itself…" Balthier groaned, closing his eyes before continuing. "All I know is that Zargabaath was asking questions of my father and his research, and that means that he's a target. You should do everything in your power to see to it that he's not alone for a while. And… and…"

And then, I just managed to stand and scramble around the table to catch him before he toppled over. I hugged his shoulders as his head lolled against my own. _Shit._ I looked to the bar - but the dirty woman was no where to be seen. Balthier groaned, a sweat breaking out on his brow and he began to shake.

So here was a dilemma. As a commoner, I had no power. If I demanded he be helped as a Judge, I would blow my cover if the eyes of Bastieel were in fact here.

"You there!" I called to the barkeep, trying to keep the panic out of my voice. "Does this dirty hole have a comm to the guard? I do expect a place like this to have bar fights and -"

"And what are you willing to give me for such a favor?" The scruffy and blemished man sniggered, leering at me. I dug my hand into my robes, and grabbed my parcel of Archadian sandal's. I dumped them out onto the table and glared at him. The man's demeanor changed from lust to one of greed as he stared.

"Get this man behind the bar immediately and get me that comm," I growled, turning back to Balthier. He had grown almost white with pale, and I cursed. The grubby and scruffy man lifted the boy with ease, hauling him over a shoulder and moved towards the back of the bar, to the back door. The barkeep deposited Balthier gently to a rugged area of floor and I tore off my outer robe and wadded it up beneath the boys head. Then I stood; the man handed me a chorded and rusted comm unit, connected to the wires that linked the unit underground. I grabbed at it and pulled the man closer to me by his shirt collar and told him to get the rest of the customers out of here. Then I barked the proper codes for secure channels into the comm.

"Get me Judge Magister Gabranth immediately," I said. It was the only way - I couldn't let the boy die, and I couldn't carry him out of here myself with my size, and cover intact. "I don't _care_ if he's meeting with Bergan, I gave you the clearance, get him on this line _now." _The wait seemed eternal. And then -

"Who is this?" a low growl rumbled through the earpiece.

"Gabranth, I want you to listen to me very carefully. Ffamran is in the first dank pub on Dorchester road in the lower streets, and he's been poisoned. You have to get here and get him help, or he'll die," I whispered quietly with deadly calm.

"Feneris? How-"

"There isn't time Noah," I begged, using that name to hopefully convey how serious I was. "He may die and I can't _do _anything, I can't get him out of-"

"I'm on my way," and then the line went dead.

I scrambled to Balthier, touching his neck. His pulse raced and he was burning with fever.

"I'm sorry - but I can't let you die," I apologized to his unhearing ears. "I'll come back for you."

And then, I left the pub as discreetly as I could, just as Gabranth's guard began to secure the perimeter, even if the magister was a ways off. I managed to get far enough away so that no guards would recognize me and I sank, cold to the bone, against a dark and musky stone wall near the entrance to Upper Archades. I could hear the faint march of men in armor and a clamor go up.

If that boy died - I don't… I just -

I made my way, slowly and discreetly, back to the capitol building. Recognized by my own guard upon arrival, I was let into the underground tunnels leading to the royal wing. Nearly two hours after Balthier collapsed, I was able to get near someone who could tell me how he was doing.

I jogged up to the presidential level, freezing cold and shaking. Night had fallen, and the lap lighters stared at me as I ran buy. The most influential and largest medical wing in Archades, I assumed nothing less would be spared for esteemed Doctor Cidolphus's prodigal son.

Entering the foyer, Drace and Gabranth were there, with Dr. Cid himself and half a dozen guards. I struggled over to them.

"Lord Feneris!" Drace exclaimed, turning her body towards me, as I could not see her face. Gabranth turned towards me as well, but Cid scared the absolute shit out of me as he started towards me with such intensity on his face, I thought for a moment he would strike me. But instead, he grabbed my arms with bruising force and hauled my frozen body to his decadently dressed vest and shirt cloths.

"Thank gods you found him, thank gods," the man rambled almost drunkenly, squeezing with each word. I wheezed, breathing against his neck with wide eyes. He smelled of parchment, fine oil and something… that I'd smelled before. Something musty, and old. I managed to pry myself away from him, watching my own dirt and dampness rub off onto his expensive clothing.

"Is he alright?" I demanded aggressively despite being the smallest one there.

"He was poisoned," Gabranth said with distaste, "At that bar. It took the Grand Magnus to cleanse him."

"If you hadn't told us where he was when you did, he would have died," Cid said softly, reverently, eyes hooded. "How did you know?"

Ah, and now it was time to create a story on the spot. Pity I hadn't been smart enough to think of this earlier.

"I didn't realize he had run away from his duties, my lord Bunansa. He didn't word it like that. It was Gabranth to alerted me to his true nature," I nodded towards the tallest Judge, "And Balthier knew I was onboard the Ifrit for training today, called me there after bribing the barkeep."

"Why in gods name are you filthy?" Drace asked. I swallowed, trying to come up with something feasible, when, praise the gods, the Grand Magnus walked into the foyer.

"He will be alright now," the elderly man said quietly as he swished near us in his ornately decorated white robes. "He will sleep." He stared at me. "Your lips are blue."

"What?" I stammered.

"You are soaking wet to the bone and chilled. Come," he said kindly, reaching out to me. I really disliked the healer's wing, but it was a welcome distraction from trying to lie my way out of the situation. /I followed meekly. I was given a hot bath and a healing cure from the Magnus, and then I was released. Before going back to my quarters, I checked in on Balthier.

He was lying still on a white cot, dressed in a thin white sick shirt and his skin looked about the same color.

I stood next to him, and grabbed at his limp hand, holding it tenderly for a moment.

_I'm sorry, Balthier. We almost got you killed._

I turned away, ashamed, and looked to the door. Gabranth and Cid were watching me. Cid had an unfamiliar look in his eye, suspicion, maybe? Gabranth much have shared the sentiment, as he stormed off with an air of irritation.

Cid walked towards me slowly, and we stood together, looking at the boy,

"He must trust you greatly, if he called you before all others."

There was a quiet moment, and then -

"I did something wrong, if he didn't come to me when his life was in danger."

And what the hell did I say to that? I swallowed.

"Perhaps he would like it very much, if you were here when he wakes," I suggested softly.

"I have so much work to do, we must prepare, we must-"

"Doctor, he's your _son. _He wants nothing more in this world except for you to care."

Cid snorted. "He has no idea how much I care, my plans, he just runs off-"

I grabbed his arm and forced him to touch his son's shoulder. The man jumped as if he had been shocked.

"Then show him," I said quietly.

**Spring 57th 703ov**

I've been unpleasantly busy. Fortunately, I didn't have to convince Gramis that there was a plot to murder his Judges - the attempted murder and sabotage from last week was enough to prove that something fishy is going on . It was actually the senate that came up with our current plan of defense. Old senator Burgeren was the one who stated that the greatest bodyguards and protectors in the fleet are judges themselves. So the best way to protect a judge in armor - is to have a judge out of armor with them. The public and very few not of high rank know what we look like outside the helm, so arguably we were best suited to protect each other.

So it was voted upon that a Judge out of armor would be with a Judge in armor at all times, especially when guarding the Solidors. Gods forbid a Judge be taken down first - then there would be no defense for the family. This decision was met with some hesitation - The Judge out of armor - would he have the same authority? How would he or she be recognized? Your own personal fleet, maybe, but what if Began's men didn't accept my orders because they didn't know who I was? Well… honestly, how many five foot tall woman with giant scars running the length of their faces would be running around as a judge? And another point - its hard enough to pretend to be Kira outside the Palace's walls, but what if Bastieel had infiltrated even the capitol - my ruse would be up. I'd nearly scarified Balthier for this, and I simply could not fail now.

It was decided that only the elite high judge guard would know our true faces. The rest would be left in the dark - as I accompanied a judge in armor, and I without armor, I would be but an associate. Several high guard would come as well, so that the unarmored judge could blend in.

It was horrifically complicated.

Drace is freed from most out of armor duties, as she primarily defends Lord Larsa. Gabranth was firstly paired with me onboard the Ifrit, and would continue to be paired with me in that rotation every Monday for patrol. Yesterday was his first day with me. I strode onboard the bridge in full armor and helm, with two of my guard behind me and Gabranth wearing a dark leather combat suit that matched my guards. It was like a game - which one's the Judge Magister? If the man never speaks, you'll never know…

Ghis and I were engaged in a series of mock strategic battles for the majority of the morning. I've found, since the Miercus insurgence, I enjoy combat strategy and these morning trials I always find enjoyable. I must admit, I was excited for Gabranth to bear witness to the way I run my ship, but he spent the majority of the time looking downright irritated. In fact, he had been acting strangely since I'd returned Balthier to Archades. He's said hardly a word to me.

The Judges assembled with Gramis and several palace advisors earlier today. The grand galla - an annual spring time event at which every major political and friendly foreign dignitary attends a grand feast and ball, was fast approaching this week. With discussions hovering in the security of the event, Ghis calmed suggested it be canceled.

"Honestly, your Excellency, its hardly time for us to open ourselves to foreigners. With enough threats to your safety-"

"Absolutely not. We will not bow to terrorism. Archades is above this." Gramis seemed to glare at Ghis for a moment before his expression returned to neutral. "We must simply plan accordingly. I have already informed all of the high guard to attend - they are to appear as guests, and we shall implant them into the crowd. Drace, you shall be fully armored and with Larsa at all times. Zargabaath and Bergan as well - you will protect myself and Vayne. Ghis, Gabranth, and Feneris - you too will dress for the occasion and keep watchful eye - and ear, on the floor."

I swallowed, feeling uncomfortable. "But, my lord, with… my scar-"

"It will only draw people to inquire of you all the more."

"But - since the Atomos - all of those officers, surely people have whispered in the shadows-"

"Then, surely people will know I am protected by those not in shells of armor. We want the crowd to know that I am protected. Perhaps it will deter and attack."

I winced. This was not good. Not good at all. If the Bastieel were in attendance -

"What about a - masquerade? Sir." I blurted.

Gramis blinked.

"Well," I coughed, "A masquerade ball, sir. It would certainly spice up the party. And since we have not a clue who is attacking us anyway, it won't matter if we don't know what they look like."

His advisors just stared at me. Well, most everybody did. I swallowed.

"Actually, my lord, a party of masks and play could attract the outer regions who usually decline our invitation and claim it as a lack of good time," one of his elderly advisors pondered. "It could brighten the face of the empire - not just an empire that crushes its enemies - but also knows how to enjoy a good, stately time."

The advisors seemed to like this idea very much. The empire had a bad reputation as of late, and perhaps a party of this scale could lighten the mood. Gramis was quiet, but a few minutes later, he made his decision.

"Very well. A grand masquerade, indeed."

I felt the breath hiss out of me with relief.

As I made to leave for my evening, Gabranth didn't say a word as he silently left the room.

What did I do?

**Spring 59th 703ov**

I hate dressing up. I always have. Daddy's little girl hated wearing dresses, hated getting her hair done.

But, this gala is just that - its formal, and I need to look the part to fit in. _Ugh._

Drace, of course, is having a field day. At lunch today her fierce façade crumbled as she exploded in excitement and ideas for my dress and costume. I groaned and winced, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

"I swear, Drace, if you don't drop it -"

"I think a good shade of pink, would attract Ghis, hmmm"

Gods I wanted the floor to swallow me whole. Ghis sputtered and Drace laughed and Gabranth sulked and Zargabaath wisely held his tongue while Bergan made some offensive comment and it was just horrible.

Since I had the evening off, I grabbed my plain clothing and went down to the ground floor and into the city. Dress shopping, honestly. I'd rather spend my pay on books. Or on food. Drawing supplies. Foreign battle strategy bought off the black market. A dog. _Anything._ Not some slinky three pieces of fabric that somehow cover my attributes so I could waggle my bare skin for pudgy wrinkly horny foreign politicians . I hate hate hate _hate_ being leered out. Why else would I prefer to clamor about in seventy some odd pounds of metal? Honestly.

And yet, I didn't want to look ugly, either.

I found some dresses that I could deal with, but it wasn't until the end of the evening that the Gods opened up a beam of light upon a dress that would suit me.

It wasn't pink. It was the color of blood. I found that tasteful. Dark, deep red. It came up to the neck and had a small collar, latched with a silky button. It swooped down my chest, covering my sternum but baring my shoulders, and wrapped around my chest, crossing, going around my back and then coming to rest below my navel, and connecting to slink down my legs and ending at my ankles. My back and stomach were more exposed then I'd like, but… It wasn't pink.

And then - shoes. Gods, it never ends. I found my way to a costume shop on Darfora square. It was getting late and I was eager to return home and get some paperwork done, so I wasn't really focused on my search. And then, found something appropriate. It was a mask that covered from hairline to below the nose, but the cheeks curved down and covered most of the face. It was black, etched with golden and red inks, intricate designs curving down the sides. Its eyes were cut like that of a cat's and the nose was pursed like a feline. And then, it even came with shoes. Low heels, so I wouldn't fall and break something important, like my kneecap. They too were black, ties wrapping up the leg and connecting below the knee.

And then I was free to go home.

I'm nervous about all this.

After dropping off my purchase, I stopped in the healers wing and checked in on Balthier. I was honestly surprised to find Cid there. He had made camp - papers strewn absolutely everywhere, even some on the foot of his son's bed. The man was buried deep in his work but; but - one hand was raised and gripping his sons.

I smiled, and moved to leave when suddenly the doctor's head snapped up as if I'd said something. He turned to look dead at me.

"Feneris?"

That was odd. I was mostly behind the doorframe, how had he recognized me? I quirked a brow, but entered into the dimly lit room. I clasped my hands behind me and stopped a few feet from the bed.

"He hasn't woken, but we believe he will soon," Cid said conversationally, before his voice dropped to something a little more human, and he added, "I hope its sooner than later."

I nodded. "Indeed. He's strong."

That got his attention. He shut his book, turning to face me.

"Do you remember me, Naiyel?"

I stiffened, uncomfortable.

"I remember you giving me the hug of warmth a few days ago," I attempted to joke.

"No no - I was with you during the winter parade. I recognized you instantly."

"How?"

Cid cocked his head in a mannerism frighteningly like his son.

"I knew your father very well. You have his eyes. I'd recognize them anywhere," the elder man said, eyes lost in thought as he smiled softly. "He served in the fleet and I was a civilian science officer here in the capitol before he became Magister. You make him proud, being Magister at such a young age." The man paused. "I'd hoped… Ffamran would follow in your path too, but apparently, I was wrong."

I came up to the bed, silent, and then turning around and leaning against the mattress to regard the elder scientist.

"Your son seemed starved, my lord," I said quietly, "For something that I don't think he was getting here."

"You mean, my attention? Did he tell you that?"

I shook my head softly. "He did not, but perhaps you are correct in that regard. Instead - I felt he was so stifled by duty that he wasn't happy. You have to _want_ to serve as a judge, my lord. The sense of loyalty and honor is what brings us strength. Ffamran… he wanted to try other things, I believe." I shook my head. "I don't know him as well as you think. I only ran into him recently again, in-"

"I know. And yet, he calls to you for aid… I sense… there is a… deeper relationship."

I paused for a second, before it hit me -

"Wait, wait, wait. Ffamram? He's what, eighteen? I'm twenty-four. I'm sorry, we're not dating," I stuttered, shaking my head. "I care for him, but I assure you-"

My head reared up and I caught something out of my peripheral vision. But it was gone before I could catch it. I heard footsteps echo down the hall.

"Gabranth, probably."

I snapped my head back to the elder man. He chuckled.

"You didn't notice his sullen attitude?"

And then, my utter stupidity lifted.

"You're not serious_?" Gods have mercy. _I felt like I was seventeen again, and clueless about the male species. I closed my eyes and massaged my temples.

Cid smirked knowingly. "I believe he thought you were having an affair with my son, or so it looked when he stumbled upon you last."

"That's outrageous! My gods, I -"

Behind me, Balthier made a soft noise. I turned, and watched his eyelids flutter. The doctor's attention flew to his son.

I left them alone. They needed this moment.

The Gala is tomorrow. I'm nervous. I can't tell if its about a possible terrorist attack, or the fact that I have to wear a dress.


	13. Chapter 13

The (belated) valentine's day chapter. Chock full o' goodness!

* * *

**Interlude- Feneris the Mary-sue. (this isn't aimed towards anyone but my own brain trying to justify that my fic is, in fact, not a mary-sue ;;)**

Feneris: haay boys, I'm the new judge. I'm a the HOTT.

Gabranth: Omg you are the hott lets make babies. I don't care that we just met. RIGHT. NOW. IN MY BEDROOM. points and starts to strip off clothing Gramis stares with abject horror

Drace: Omg you are the hott, I already love Gabranth but you can have him, lets do threesome!

Feneris: I am the most perfect judge EVER. I am awesome swordsman, I can do anything even though I just started! Look at me take on 100 badguys even though I'm like 5 ft tall! throws long, billowing sexy hair over shoulder and looks smoldering at the audience badguys faint

Feneris: Oh and I managed to save the two solidor brothers because I'm so awesome AND I've found a cure for Dr Cid's crazy time so that I can ALSO make babies with hot little barely-legal Balthier! I am the SEX.

Gabranth: whilst half naked Oh, Feneris. You complete me and heal my torn heart. Let's get married and run away together. Forget duty! Oh, Drace can come too!

Drace: Awesomes! I vote Phon Coast. I could use a tan, and a margarita.

Please tell me this isn't what you think of this fiction. I personally don't see Feneris as Mary-Sue - she's got waaay to many daddy issues for that and she's too tiny! But then again, I'm biased. Feneris is a way cooler name than Mary Sue. And I hate how people are so quick to label fictions with original female characters. I should have made Feneris a boy.

Thanks for the feedback I've received. It really DOES help me plan where the story arc will lead. Now, I've got a whole slew of Zecht and Dr Cid ideas I didn't have before!

* * *

**Spring 60th 703ov**

It was an… interesting evening.

The morning before the gala was fraught with tension, apprehension, excitement and a myriad of other emotions that charged the capitol and royal palace. I felt it as strong as anyone else, but I'm a magister, even if I'm not in armor and we don't _show_ emotion. In public, anyway. Privately, that's a different matter altogether.

I was in court for most of the morning with Zargabaath, seated behind and to his left with two of his highly ranked judges, and one of my own. My judge's name was Itsarik, and he'd been with me since my appointment of magister. He was unique - his hair was naturally the color of fresh snow, his eyes like blue ice and highly intelligent. He was young, like Balthier had been, and already high ranking. I trusted him - he showed nothing but the utmost loyalty to me, and I enjoyed his presence. He served in the palace, though I was contemplating have him transferred to the Ifrit, since I spent more time onboard my craft than in Archades.

"This man's a fool," Itsarik grumbled, his crossed arms heaving as he stifled a yawn.

"He was desperate. If my sons were starving I might have stolen from a market as well."

The younger judge huffed. "You are too liberal, my lord. And quite frankly, I can't picture you with sons."

"Is that right?" I smirked, scribbling random weapon designs on the edges of my parchment. Itsarik leaned over, observing my work.

"Apparently Magister's don't need to pay attention to these petty kinds of cases."

"I am not a magister per say, at the moment, but an extremely talented bodyguard."

"A good looking bodyguard tonight, so I've heard," he grinned.

"Oh _Gods _I told Drace to keep her mouth shut," I moaned, closing my eyes. Itsarik chuckled.

"I'll be there as well, along with every other high judge in plain clothes. I expect a dance."

I glared at him. He coughed, sitting up straight.

"…My Lord."

It was then that I got a sneaking suspicion that this Gala was going to be something out of the ordinary.

I spent my lunch break with Balthier that day. I climbed the stairs instead of taking the lift, trying to avoid being seen. It was a bit of a hike.

Cid wasn't with the boy when I entered, though the mess of tell-tale papers and pens everywhere told me the man hadn't been gone long. The door swished closed behind me and I stepped gingerly into the room.

"Well, that was effective," Balthier hissed from the bed, arms crossed and sitting up.

"I'm glad to see you too," I responded calmly, taking Cid's seat and leaning back. "You scared the shit out me, pirate."

"I don't even remember what happened," the young man groaned, wincing.

"We met, you talked, someone poisoned you, you almost died, I had no choice but to get you to Archades lest you die, I managed not to be seen, saved my cover, you know," I drawled, frowning and waving my hands like a politician. Balthier raised a brow.

"And what now?" he asked.

I proceeded to tell him about the alternation of judges in an attempt to keep us safe, the masquerade, and my hopes that Bastieel, or whomever was targeting the judges, didn't to anything stupid during the event.

"Oh, you forgot the part about getting me _out_ of here," the boy growled as he clenched the sheets.

I cocked my head. "Your father hugged me, my boy. Me. Feneris. Scary Feneris. Doesn't know me. Random act of affection - When he found out that I'd saved you; Perhaps you should have a heart to heart with him-"

"Feneris, he's _going crazy_," Balthier pleaded, "He tried telling me about his invisible friend who he's 'partners' with, how they're going to save the world, things like that. He still wants me to be a judge, like _you._ He talks about your father, blah blah, how I should be more like you, serve the empire-"

"I see," I silenced him, raising a hand to deflect the flow of words. "But - he does love you. Perhaps there is another way."

"Without me, you've no one in the field," Balthier reminded me coyly. I glowered at him. He smiled triumphantly.

"Well, I'd suggest you think about how you want to do this," I said quietly. "Things will become tricky if you randomly disappear again, as I am now known as a 'good friend' of yours," I rolled my eyes, "And I'll be investigated by Gabranth for certain this time."

Balthier gave me a questioning look and I just shook my head.

"Very well. Do me a favor, slip me some drink from your party, will you? Think of me while you're on the dance floor -" I stood, closing my eyes and turning to leave, "Having a good time, looking fabulous-" I began towards the door and moved out into the hallway, "While I'm stuck here!" The door closed and silenced him.

I sighed and left the healer's wing.

My afternoon was uneventful. I spent the majority of it going over and signing off on new regulations for docking and fueling procedures while sipping my coffee, keeping a watchful eye on Zargabaath as he did much of the same. No actions had been taken against the judges or Archades in general since the destruction of the Atomos. For some reason, that alone put me on edge. Its not in my nature to assume everything would be alright - not unless I assured that it would be.

Around five pm, Drace exploded into the office, fully armored, and silently grabbed my arm.

"We're leaving. I assume you'll be cautious enough to complete your paperwork unharmed," she announced.

"I'll try not to get poisoned. If I die that death, you'll know it was Feneris. She made the coffee." I shot Zargabaath a dirty look before Drace hauled me out of our office.

"What! What is it?" I exclaimed, exasperated, as she pulled me like a prized colt through the corridor.

"I want to help you get ready! Since I can't dress up myself, I'll live vicariously through you," she explained sounding extremely pleased with herself. "I haven't been in a dress since -"

She grew silent, before huffing in her helm. I frowned, pausing and grabbing the place between her bracer and hand guard, hoping she registered my concern through my touch. She shook her head, and practically shoved me into the lift. Once inside, she removed her helm and allowed herself a brilliant smile.

"This will be fun."

I felt a tremor of fear burn its way through me. Fun?

Fun indeed.

Upon reaching my quarters, she demanded I get in the shower. I looked at her with something akin to fear, but obliged. As usual, I loved it - I love the feeling of heat surrounding me, running down my skin. I would have liked to stay longer, but I heard her bark for me to hurry up an that time was being wasted. I rolled my eyes and toweled off, throwing on some sleep pants and a shirt from the bathroom closet.

As I walked into the living room, I stopped dead, eyes wide. My dress was spread upon the sofa, shoes and mask beside it. On the kitchen counted she had a tall stool and a half dozen bottles beside it with a towel. She was out of armor, and looking expectantly at me.

"Have a seat."

_Oh, please have mercy on me,_ I prayed.

I sat, and she spun me around so I faced away. I heard the squirt of liquid from a bottle, and then I squeaked when I felt cold upon my scalp.

"Quit your squirming," she said distractedly, working her hands through my damp short hair, "I need my concentration."

So, I let her do whatever in gods' name she was doing without complaint, rubbing my arms with a feel of insecurity about me. After ten minutes or so, she turned me around again, eyes wrinkled in deep thought as she toyed with my hair for few more minutes. Then, she stepped back as artist would inspect their work, and smirked triumphantly. But before I could ask, she was grabbing more bottles and gods know what, and soon she was prodding and poking at my face.

"Close your eyes," she demanded. I wanted to make a snide remark, but bit my tongue. After a few minutes, I opened one eye and said,

"You should use this method down in the dungeons, its quite effective."

"Hush," she silenced, poking my nose with a warm finger.

At last, she was done, and she leaned back again, nodding and smiling. I squinted at her, and glanced back towards the bathroom -

"And take the dress with you - if you need help getting it on, let me know. Hurry up! I want to see you."

I took the dress in hand, giving her a disconcerted look, before padding back to my bathroom. I set the dress on the sink before looking the mirror -

Well, that was different.

She'd used some kind of glue in my hair, the soft fluff locked into position, smoothed down to my head and flowing off to one side. Slicked down, the hair was a fair bit longer than when it was fluffed up and it made me look a little older than my years. She'd used some makeup to soften my scar, and applied dark eyeliner and mascara to my eyes.

I looked like my mother. It startled me.

The dress was a bit difficult to master, though I figured it out after a few minutes. I couldn't wear a bra, so I snugged the wide straps as close to me as possible to achieve some semblance of security. My back was practically bare, and for a moment I felt apprehensive about going out in public so… _naked._

I felt completely nervous and insecure as I slowly padded out of my bathroom to meet Drace. She didn't say a word a first, just looked at me as a farmer would appraise a cattle, perhaps. But then a deep, motherly smile graced her elegant features and I couldn't help it - my own smile came to me.

"You look absolutely wonderful," she whispered. I looked down, fiddling the carpet with my toe.

"And now, the final touches. Lets put these on and lace up your shoes. These were a good choice - you'll be able to move quickly and securely if needed."

"You seem to have done this whole gussy up thing before," I asked cautiously. As I suspected, the older woman hesitated. Discomfort radiated from her, and I wondered if there was anything I could do to ease her.

"I used to be married to a politician," she responded softly. "We would often have to make presence at such dances for his position."

'Married?" I asked. I could never envision the hard nosed woman married.

"Is it so difficult to imagine?" Drace asked with a smile that softened her features. "I must admit, it was some time ago. A lifetime ago."

I sat opposite of her on the couch, crossing my legs.

"What was he like? Why-"

"He was a good man. Aristocrat, born of Archades. He was an ambassador," the woman said quietly, playing with her fingers with a glazed look in her eyes, "Dark hair, dark eyes, but a kind man. No qualms when it came to what he believed was best for Archades, though." She looked at me with a sad smile. "In the end, his ideas got him killed. He, and our two sons."

"You had _kids?" _

"Yes. Jeremy and Brunic. They were my whole life." A dreamy, content looked crossed her features and I wanted to take that expression, bottle it, and put it on her more often. She looked like a whole different person. But then, her eyes grew colder and more distant.

"They were with their father, traveling by skyrail to their school's play, they were the leads. Tall, dark and hansom, they played two of the three knights -" And then, I watched the transformation - the woman that Drace was, before she took that name, again receded into the background of her presence and Drace the Judge Magister returned. "They were struck by a skyship transport, malfunction. They died together."

"Drace-"

"I was supposed to go with them, but I was caught up with my own work - I was a clerk for the department of defense. I was delayed - and I will never forgive myself for not being there."

"So you could die as well? Sincerely -"

"Perhaps. Perhaps I could have done something, my motherly instincts could have forewarned-"

"Drace!" I barked, my hand shooting forward and grabbing hers. "It wasn't your fault."

"Its in the past," she said smoothly. "Larsa is my only son now."

The swift shift in topic was a dead giveaway that she in fact had not placed all this in the past. The look in her eyes, no matter how guarded, was one of loss and pain. Oh, Drace. I felt my heart churn uncomfortably.

"Enough of this," she ordered, standing up. "This isn't proper conversation for a lovely lady about to attend a ball."

"You speak as if I am some princess," I mused, lacing up my shoes, "And I assure you, I am not."

"You look the part tonight, my dear," Drace assured. "Keep your wits about you. I want you to help me watch Larsa. Vayne and Gramis are men -"

"I understand."

"Good. I'm going to go ahead and meet with the young lord, then," Drace replied, pulling her armor back on. I stood next to her, wordlessly helping assemble the last of it, and handed her the shining helm. She regarded me fondly.

"I do hope you have a spot of fun tonight. Rare is it that a Magister gets to do anything "fun", and its high time for your share. And make sure Gabranth does something other than sulk in a corner, hhm?" She winked at me.

"Wait - Drace-"

"What?"

"You - Gabrnath-"

"We are good friends, Feneris." And then, there was this horrible awkward silence for a few moments.

"Why?"

I scratched at my neck, feeling on the spot.

"You and he, you're so - connected, so close, I just thought -"

"I will never allow myself to feel that kind of devastation again, and Gabranth knows it," she growled, her voice low and menacing. "And that is all."

And then, in the back of my head, I realized that those words might be what she tells herself each day to survive. Is anyone spared pain in this world? Two dead sons and a dead husband, to join all the others who'd lost their lives, and theirs weren't even caused by war - I dropped the topic.

I followed her out into the hallway. She placed her helm upon her head, and regarded me through the eyes slits.

"I will see you tonight, then?"

"Of course, your honor." I bowed, and then clomped off towards my own room, my shoes needing some breaking in. I felt like a disjointed fool at first, trying to walk in the shoes, and much to my embarrassment (I swore, if anyone walked into my room right then -) I practiced walking and running around in my quarters so that I might be able to perform without falling flat on my face. Time flew by and before long, it was time to make my way down to the lower levels. I took the mask and tied it to my head, knoting it behind my ears as I made my way towards the elevator. As I road the lift, I found my thoughts returning to Drace - my mind creating a landscape - two little dark haired boys, smiling, a tall and handsome statesman, his arm around his wife -

"My lord Feneris!"

My head sprang up, startled. Itsarik had joined me in the lift, fumbling to fasten his mask as he walked in.

"You look -"

"As do you," I nodded, waving at his dress suit. He seemed to take the hint and smirked at me.

"Uncomfortable without your armor?"

"Don't underestimate me, son," I growled, "I can still demote your ass." The platinum haired man sniggered, offering me his arm. I narrowed my eyes at him for a moment, before accepting and slipping my arm in his. He nodded with a confident smirk, and as the lift opened, I felt a tremor of nervousness.

It was so flashy. The room was hardly ever used in this day and age, save for this time of year. The ceiling was at least seventy feet above my head, with three glowing chandeliers that sparkled and swayed. Garnished with silver and gold, light seemed to bounce off every surface in the large room. Itsarik and I made our way towards the back. Gramis was seated on the podium table, Vayne to his left and Larsa to his right. The small prince's eyes were wide and his mouth was split with a huge grin.

No names or formalities were exchanged, due to circumstance. Itsarik and I stood before the Emperor and bowed low, then moved off to the side.

"Oh my - look at all that _food_," he rumbled. "I hate to leave you m'lady, but my stomach is more demanding than the loins, I fear. I'll be back in a bit," he grinned, bowing. I snorted, and waved him off. Feeling decidedly out of place, I tried to quell my awkwardness by moving to the side. On the second podium, the orchestra was tuning and preparing to play. On the other side of the room, guests were flooding in. Masks of all sizes and kinds soon found their way to the floor as the music began. The more pompous of females were adorn in shimmering feathers, reminding me of a carnival. And then, there were us - the higher and magister judges within them. I recognized Barnes, Taric, Kou, and several others of my own fleet, but sadly, I didn't know the other higher ranking judges well enough, save for if they were in my own class from which I was chosen to be magister.

I sauntered over to the refreshments and poured myself the least alcoholic looking beverage available. The room was rapidly filling. I watched Drace and Zargabaath place themselves at either side of the Solidors, and scanned the area for anything out of the ordinary.

"You look most delightful tonight, my lady."

I flinched and turned to my left. Bergan was all suited up, though his body was angled at the display of food and drink, and his posture suggested yearning towards the table.

"Thank you, your honor," I nodded. "Let me know if you need anything of me tonight. I don't want anything regrettable to happen."

"But of course. Perhaps, we may share a dance later?"

I blinked. "Of course. I'm going to go check the left side… I'll be around," I responded.

"Certainly," Bergan rumbled and moved away. I winced and sipped my watered down punch, wiggling the liquid in the glass. And there was Ghis on the corner opposite of me - anyone could tell with his posture and air of an aristocrat. His mask was… it looked to be some kind of bird. _Fitting_, I mused, as he was always first to take his fleet to the sky and fight, if only slightly necessary. And he had a big nose as it was.

The lights in the chamber dimmed considerably as Gramis took center stage. His speech was short and to the point, detailing the importance of inter-country communication and friendship. I didn't really watch or listen to him though, as my concentration was on the audience and anything suspicious. I noticed several of the foreign dignitaries admiring me, or rather, my lack of clothing, as I edged the audience. I tried not to scowl.

The crowd applause at the end of the speech, and the orchestra began to play again. I wormed my way through the mass of people as they danced and chatted, keeping a watchful ear out for anything odd. I came to a thinned cluster of people near the rear, and a man with broad shoulders had his back to me, beside two overweight aristocrats. I grunted and looked for another way around, when the two larger men moved off and the darkly-dressed man turned around. Even with the mask, I knew - such was the language of judges. Posture, head movement, that's what defines a man. And even with his plain black mask and simple dress suit, I knew he was Gabranth.

And I don't know if it was the terrible punch or what, but the sight of him made my mouth go dry.

He didn't recognize me at first. I watched his gaze slide over me, accessing me, my threat value. And then I cocked my head and smiled, and watched him freeze. He came closer to me, as if drawn by a flame. Finally, he was near enough where I could see his eyes in the darkness. It was almost magical. He looked down at me, looking at my dress ( I felt suddenly _very_ underdressed ), my head, finally my eyes. Taking a deep breath, he looked upwards and out into the audience, before he found my gaze again. Cautiously, he opened his hand and held it palm outwards to me. No words were needed. He took me and pulled me close, one arm securely around my waste and the other cradled gently by his own.

He smelled _amazing._ What the hell was that?

I rested my head against his chest, eyes out into the audience, as I'm sure he was doing above. Politicians, woman bubbling with laughter and merriment, elder statesmen leering a bit too freely, undone by drink. I watched Vayne and Gramis, smiling and being ever gracious hosts, Drace with Larsa, the boy begging her to dance and I could only imagine her amused but tart reply. Gabranth and I swirled and moved through the crowd, changing our vantage point to watch different parts, different sections of the floor.

But then, something seemed to change. The music got a little slower, his grip a little tighter. The pads of his fingertips slid lightly over my exposed back and I pulled myself a little closer to him. He lowered his head until his breath was on my ear. Our hands detached and slid to my waist, above his neck. And I could feel his strong, fast heartbeat against my chest. I wondered if he could feel mine. Suddenly, there was very little space between us at all. There was only the sway of movement, the warmth and feel of my partner, and the sudden spark of desire that was creeping slowly up my spine.

What?

I swallowed. I was in trouble. I don't know when this happened, but it was happening. I slowed for a moment and halted my body, and Gabranth made a little breathy noise into my ear. And then I realized I wasn't the only one to be feeling… caught up in the moment.

I heard something then, a commotion. I jerked my head up, and looked in the direction of Larsa.

He was gone. They weren't supposed to depart for another two hours. Drace's head motions were quick and full of tension.

_Shit._

I grabbed Gabranth's hand and tugged him towards the main podium. I hauled myself, dress and all, up the stairs.

"Where is Larsa?" I asked Zargabaath with a hiss.

"He went to get a drink, Drace went to go find him," the voice rang from within the horned helm. I looked to Gabranth, and then dashed out the back door. Drace was already far down the hall, moving as fast as a woman in armor could. I sprinted after her, with Gabranth close behind me.

Drace turned around and whipped off her helm.

"What is it?!" she asked, alarmed. I gaped at her, and watched as Larsa came waddling out of the mens room.

"Oh."

"Not a life threatening situation," Gabranth murmured, amused, from behind me.

"No lives threatened here," Larsa said cheerfully, reaching up at me. I felt my cheeks redden and I was glad for the mask that covered the majority of them. I acquiesced Larsa, picking him up.

"Mmph," I grunted, "You're almost as big as me now, young man." The young prince wrapped his arms around my neck and kissed my masked cheek.

"And when I am, you'll still be running around trying to save me," he said sincerely, "And they'll still run away, scared as anything." Gabranth chuckled low behind me, standing near my shoulder and touching Larsa's head.

"Lets go back! I want to dance with Feneris!" the boy prince asked excitedly.

We started back towards the back doors, and I set Larsa down. He grabbed my hand and pulled me along and I followed. I turned around to view Drace, who was walking last with a pose of amusement, and then Gabranth, who was looking at me with a smoldering gaze that put a lump in my throat.

He looked terribly handsome tonight.

No! He's your _mentor._ Every man looks marginally better in a dress suit. Ugh.

Larsa tugged me to the dance floor, right before his father. Vayne was else ware, but Gramis was sipping something from an elaborately decorated goblet. The Emperor smiled as his youngest son ordered me to my knees. I knelt, and then Larsa took my hands and swayed back and forth with the music. Gramis barked laughter. Gabranth dissipated somewhere, so I stayed near the emperor for the rest of the evening. The next hour or too went off without a hitch - we had enough security out there to subdue an uprising, thought they were masked just like the rest of the audience.

Towards the end of the evening's factitive, I was back on the floor. Itsarik was with some very pretty woman, and he winked furiously at me as I passed. Back away from the man conglomeration of people, some stragglers lined the back wall near the long curtains that adorned the huge fifty-foot tall windows. One of them started towards me as I walked by and I tensed. It was hard to make out in the dimmer lighting, but then I realized it was Gabranth. He came forward and took my arm gently, and led me back to the curtains.

"This evening has going surprisingly well," he said softly, leaning down to my ear. "Except for Larsa needing to use the restroom." He chuckled.

"Oh, shut up," I scoffed, crossing my arms in embarrassment. He smiled down at me, a devastatingly disarming look that made my heart speed up.

_WHAT IS GOING ON? _The rational part of my consciousness howled. Having a crush on one's college was not only highly unethical, but-

Gabranth slid an arm behind me, loosely grasping my hip in a casual embrace. I swallowed harshly, and looked up to him. He was looking at me with that… _look_ again, the one that made him look just a little younger, a little less of a Magister.

"You… you look really -"

"So do you," I cut him off, flashing my eyes upwards for a moment, before looking back to the crowd. I was never good in these situations.

He squeezed me gently. We didn't speak much after that. He leaned against the wall and I against him and we watched the people dancing and swaying, drinking and talking. Before long, the event was over, the lights brightened, and people started to filter out of the enclosure. I was tired, it had been a long day. Gabranth and I wandered the emptying room until all were gone but the emperor and his sons.

Bergan was assaulting what was left of the food, obviously enjoying himself. He pointed at me as I passed -

"I never got my dance!"

"Another time, my good judge," I said, bowing low, and skittering after Drace and Larsa. Drace had removed her helm and was stretching when I got to her.

"Feneris, would you take Larsa back to his chambers? I want to assure that all these people get out safely so we can re-establish our security, alongside Zargabaath."

"Of course, your honor," I nodded. Larsa reached for Gabranth, and the judge scooped up the child. Larsa nuzzled sleepily into Gabranth. Drace muttered something under her breath about politics, I couldn't hear it through the helm, but she started away towards the front exit. Gabranth tilted his head in the direction of the back door, and I nodded, following him. The walk to the Solidor wing was slow, as Larsa was sound asleep on his chariot's shoulder. Our walk through the hallways was quiet, and I opened the door to Larsa's room as softly as I could. Gabranth ducked into the small chamber and made his way to the large double bed. Larsa looked so small as Gabranth settled him down on the mattress. I pealed off my mask and set it on Larsa's dresser, hoping he would enjoy the trinket. I looked over to the bed and I watched Gabranth slowly smooth out the boy's hair before pulling the covers up to his chin. The judge watched the boy for a few moments, before turning to me. He too reached up to his face and pulled the mask aside, bringing it to the dresser and setting it next to mine.

And then, he brought his hand to my bare cheek, and slid his hand to the back of my neck. I fought down a tremor as his fingers slid through the sensitive hair there and he smirked. I glared at him. And then he leaned down and kissed me. In the middle of Larsa's bedroom. With Larsa not ten feet away. And this time, I wasn't drunk. It was soft and dark and I felt like we were doing something horribly, horribly wrong. It was just the brushing of lips on lips, chivalrous, gentle. And then, he pulled back and regarded me with relaxed eyes. He smiled.

"I've wanted to do that all night."

I struggled for words. What do you say to that? He seemed to take my silence for rejection and winced, trying to maintain his aloofness, but failing.

"You cannot blame me for wanting it - you are beautiful tonight. Beautiful always, though more fierce when clad as a Magister." He shrugged, squeezing my shoulder, and making his way towards the exit. I stuttered - he thought I was _pretty? _**I **don't even think I'm pretty -

I fumbled with my thoughts and followed him out into the lit hallway. I struggled with myself for a moment, before I scurried after him and grabbed his hand. He looked down at me with a surprised expression.

"Kneel."

He looked at me as if I'd grown two heads.

"What? I-"

"_Kneel."_

I gave me an odd look, before he did as I asked, getting on his knees, back to the corridor wall. I felt a moment of panic -

"Well? Is there any reason you want me down here or-"

And this time, I kissed him. Fiercely. I leaned down and wrapped my arms around his neck, taking a knee myself. He inhaled sharply, giving me an opportunity to attack his mouth more deeply. He rocked back, knees coming up and his head bouncing lightly against the wall. I practically straddled him, my dress hiking up and he moaned into my mouth, hands gripping my bare shoulder blades tightly. It was hot and fast kissing, tongues battling and harsh breathing through the nose. He moaned again, and that sound alone made my pulse pick up. I traced his lips, sucking them and teasing them as my hands roamed the planes of his back. He was so solid, so utterly masculine -

And then I heard voices, coming from down the corridors. We both parted in unison, staring at down the hallway and listening to the approaching footsteps with something akin to horror. I fumbled away from him and fell backwards, trying to stand while Gabranth rose and grabbed my hands, pulling me with him. His lips were red and bruised from kissing and his face flushed as he pulled me back down the corridor. He tried the first door, but it was locked, and then another. It opened, but it was a simple linen closet with no room. He growled, then tried the third. It was a storage room containing cleaning supplies, but it was hollow and it was open. He jumped inside and tugged me with him, closing the door quietly behind him. It was utterly dark, pitch black. We waited for a moment, chests heaving, before the sound of men walking moved past the doorway. And then, I was pinned -

Against the door, in the darkness, the judge assaulted my lips, pressing the full length of his body against my own and bowing his head to keep kissing. His hands, calloused from swordplay, explored the contours of my naked back, to my waist, then upwards, grazing over my chest and coming to rest on my shoulders. I struggled to pay attention to my own ministrations, teasing and stimulating his mouth and lips with my own. I knew he liked it when he pressed himself harder against me and broke way, gasping. His breath was fast and hot against my ear and I shuddered _hard_ from it. Processing that information, he brushed his lips ever so gently against my earlobe and I felt my legs weaken, just like they wrote about in those rubbish novels my sister always tried to get me to read. I gasped as he took the cartilage into his mouth, suckling lightly and grabbed at his dress coat, trying to find some way to tether myself to the real world.

"This -" I moaned harshly, "Is a very - bad - id_ea," _I tried to rationalize as he explored the rest of my ear, tonguing and sucking heatedly.

"Mmm," his voice vibrated the shell and I gasped again, "That it is," he agreed, pressing his hips against mine _just _so slightly and my throat made a choked noise completely without my consent. He shifted and started to swirl his heat against the skin behind and below my ear and I swear the world narrowed to the feel of him against me and nothing else. I registered his chest heaving against mine as I rested my hands on his waist and hips. Half drunk with sensation, I grabbed his lower back and pulled him nearer, grinding him against me and he let out a low, guttural groan against my skin, one hand leaving its brace of the door and sliding to my own back, doing the same to me as I had done to him. I turned my head sideways against the door, unable to help myself as he continued to explore my skin.

It was because my ear was against the door that I could make out the sound of metal jingling closer in steps.

"W-Wait," I breathed, bringing my hand up to his shoulder. He made a noise of want and I shushed him again.

A door opened, then closed, then opened again, very near to us. More footsteps could be heard -

"Have you seen Judges Gabranth or Feneris?" I could make out Drace's sharp voice.

"No, your honor. Not since the Gala."

"Hhm. Let me know if you see them. Zargabaath and I have some matters of security to discuss with Gabranth immediately."

"Yes, your honor."

We leaned there, panting, each of us knowing that we couldn't continue this as much as we wanted to.

"Go to her," I breathed heavily, reaching up and cupping his face, my fingers worrying themselves into his sideburns. "There is plenty of time." In all honesty, I didn't want to do anything else but continue on with him, but memories of Drace and our conversation earlier crept unbidden to my mind. I couldn't just leave her wondering about us or where we were.

Gabranth struggled to compose himself, his brow pressed against mine as he tried to steady his breathing.

"You have patrol tomorrow on Ifrit, and I will be in-involved with - court -" he stammered, hips still pressed hard against mine and seemingly circling of their own accord. I stifled my own groans as my breathing picked up again. It was starting to feel really really _good_ and I let my brow fall to his shoulder helplessly as each rotation of his hips ignited fire in the core of me. His hands slid up my waist, to my ribs, holding me and thumbing me lightly across the edge of my breasts.

"G-Gabranth," I hissed.

"I'm sorry," he said roughly, making a huge effort to slow his movements. "I just - you - I want-"

"I know, but we can't," I panted, "Not yet, not now." He finally stopped himself, breathing hard against me.

"And not in a storage closet?" he quipped, and I could feel his lips smirk against my cheek. I chuckled hoarsely, wrapping my arms around his neck. I just hugged him and felt him return the gesture. It was just so incredibly intimate. Something that isn't a part of a Magister's everyday life. It was intoxicating. I released him first and he took a step back with a deep breath. We stood there, lit only by the bare light coming up from under the doorframe.

"Bad idea?" he said finally.

"Terrible idea," I agreed, wiping my sweat-slicked palms on my dress.

"Horrible idea."

"Grossly understated."

He came forward again and gently touched my brow.

"I'll come find you when you get back from the Ifrit."

"That's a bad idea too," I reminded him, but leaned into his touch.

"I know."


	14. Chapter 14

**Spring 61st 703ov**

The Ifrit got into a bit of a firefight with some squabbling neighbors to the west, and took some damage to her outer hull. We are still patrolling, but it looks like I'll be onboard her for a few days, overseeing anything. It irritates me that she's not in pristine condition, as if she were mine alone. How comical that I would have a child of my own - a cruiser class Archadian Airship. She looks just like me, yes?

**Spring 62nd 703ov**

I learned a great deal about skystones and how they power the hydraulics today. We edge closer to the western sky city of Tsov, a place of great turmoil, but defended enough that Vayne and Gramis have not seen to occupying it yet. Tsov is a ancient place, far older than Archadies, a sky city where huge long rope, now steel, ropes descend to the ground. Ancient people used to power balloons of hot air to travel to the city, and would descend more slowly in the same manner. The concept has always fascinated me.

I got a comm from Drace today, they are planning for Larsa's birthday celebration. I need to be in Archades for that, for security reasons. That, and I just want to be there. We depart for Archades in two days.

My mind keeps wandering back to Gabranth. Gods almighty.

Oh - did I mention Ghis is with me as a plainclothes bodyguard? He will _not _stop fussing around me, talking with me about strategy, politics.

I need a vacation from his constant chatter, if nothing else. Lords.

**Spring 64th 703ov**

Three broken ribs, a cracked collar bone, a cracked _cheek bone_ (I have never known anything so painful) and a sprained thumb.

Even after four hours being worked on by the Mages, I still feel like hell.

We received word from two of our undercover operatives in Tsov two eves ago, one of them had disappeared. Gone. No contact. Since we were in the area, I had Ghis take over Ifrit (oh he was so pleased) and I rendezvoused with a plain marked craft in our airspace, then to Tsov. I arrived in early morning, the sun blocked by the sky city. A halo of light blinded me as I maneuvered the craft towards the main docking shelter. I used the false credentials supplied by the ministry of intelligence, and it wasn't long until I was out on the bustling brick streets. People were everywhere, the place packed with merchants and mercenaries and sky pirates. I had gone alone to try and dissuade attention to myself, but I felt very alone in that place. I pulled my plain robes and cowl-hood closer.

I was scheduled to meet with the last remaining undercover at a small cottage inn in the second sector. It took me about two hours to even find the right area, let alone the shoppe. It was chilly in the sky air, and everyone was bundled up, bustling from place to place. I got knocked in the shoulder more than once, and with my smaller mass, had to fight to stay on course.

A little past our due meeting time, I finally managed to locate the small place. I entered hastily, trying to get out of the hoard of people and into the small main room. My man was to be wearing a dark blue tunic and black slacks with a tan bandana. I scanned the room quickly, but didn't see anyone wearing that description. Frowning, I made my way to the back corner of the inn and sat at an empty table. A good thirty minutes passed, and there was no word. I grew nervous.

And then I felt my heart drop. A couple walked into the inn. I didn't know who the man was, but the sleek beauty of the woman was unmistakable. It was the woman in the cave - one of the Bastieel. Elegantly dressed in satins and silks of a deep green color, she strode into the tiny Inn as if she owned the world. And immediately, her eyes found mine. I swallowed thickly.

She was all business. Her partner moved off to the side and she streamlined her way towards me and took the empty chair, sitting gracefully.

"We'd heard you were in town, Kira," she said languidly, resting her hands on her lap and staring at me with dark eyes.

"The empire sent me to recover a wayward undercover agent in Tsov," I said bluntly. I figured they had an idea why an Archadian would be looking for its wayward children, and there was no way I could lie and back it up - I had no alibi. I hadn't expected her to be here. Without Balthier, I didn't have any intel anyway.

"Hmm," she purred, raising a perfectly manicured eyebrow. "Well, that is surprising. Just what does the empire have you doing these days?"

"Dirty work," I grumbled, giving an air of irritation. "I haven't been at the capitol much, except for that ball they had," I fed her, feeling my heart thump against my chest.

"Really? We didn't see you there. We did however, see a certain young man you may be acquainted with." I blinked.

"Have you heard from Armath lately?" she asked coolly.

Shit. Think, think -

"Yes. He was poisoned while I was with him at a local bar in lower Archades. I ran out to get help, but the damned Empire was there before I could return and snatched him away. I haven't heard from him since." I folded my arms and tugged at my sides, feeling suddenly chilled.

The slim woman regarded me for what seemed like eternity, before leaned to the left and crossed her legs, smoothing down the fabric of her dress on her thigh.

"Well, perhaps you should move your attention to your capitol's aristocratic healing center. You'll find him there. Under a different name, and son to an Archadian politician." She sneered at me, as if anticipating the pang of betrayal I was supposed to feel. "It seems he was fishing us for information, just as we are of you. How fitting an end, if he had been poisoned by those he tried to manipulate." She lifted her chin haughtily. "You will find that he won't live long. Archadia's walls are growing paper thin as we infiltrate. Only a few inside, now, but plenty easy to rid ours selves of that boy. The time is nigh, my dear Kira. Friends with him or no, we will do what we must to protect ourselves."

_And I will protect my people too, wench_, I vowed to myself.

"Whatever you need of me, I'll serve," came out of my mouth instead. She seemed to consider this for a moment, before tapping a long, manicured fingernail on the glass oversheet protecting the table.

"I must ask you, are you religious?"

"What?" I gaped.

"Do you believe in the Gods?" She asked.

"I - I, um," I stammered -

"The Bastieel are servants, my dear. They speak to us. Directly," she crooned, "We are their chosen. By serving us, you are directly serving those you worship."

I blinked.

"Then, why don't the Gods just take Archades? Why do they need you?"

Her smug expression faltered for a moment and she frowned at me with disapproval.

"Who are you to question the God's will?"

_Who are you not to?_ I asked myself.

"I can see you are ever the thinker," the woman huffed. "I assure you, Archades is a proper threat. The Gods tell us of their blasphemy - their poking and prodding of things not meant for man. Tools of the Gods, not to be used by politicians of Archades. They must be stopped. To deny us is to deny your _Gods._ Certainly you don't wish to be abandoned?"

_No… I didn't. But, it just didn't seem right to me._

I nodded. "What would you have be do?"

"Apprehend the traitor boy. He attempted once to escape already, though he is locked in his father's laboratory at the moment. Oh- and tell your superiors that you found the two informants dead."

"Are they?"

The small flicker of a cruel smile was my answer. Damn it. _Damn _it.

How long was I going to be able to keep this up? Obviously they still didn't realize I was a Judge. How long could I keep that up if the capitol was being infiltrated?

Would I be able to stop them? I'm only one person, and this was getting so big -

"We will be seeing you soon. Remember - you are working for the Gods. Take strength in knowing you are aiding their weave of history," she said, standing. Then, I was off her radar and didn't exist anymore as she walked towards her two goons in the other corner.

I met with my plain ship shortly after, and was anxious to get the hell out of Tsov when I felt the tingle of something up my spine. I spun around in time to see a dark figure whisk away down the Aerodome back corridor. Eyes everywhere, indeed. I was fortunate for not bringing an Archadian vessel. That could have just been a crossbow bolt in my back.

Unnerved, I yanked the craft perhaps a little too fast out the dome and into open skies.

"Ghis," I commed, "I have to make an emergency flight to Archades, top priority. Take care of my ship," I ordered.

"What emergency trip? I haven't been-"

"This concerns Dr. Cid and his son. I believe them to be in danger."

There was a pause, before he acknowledged my request. "I will alert the capitol for your arrival. You will be without a body-guard."

"I'll be fine," I grumbled.

I was still in plainclothes when I docked in Archades. I wrapped the cloth around my face to protect my identity as best I could, and raced to Draklor. I'd never liked the place. The cold, medicinal feel of steel and unfeeling metal seemed hollow and devoid of human emotion to me. Even my father didn't like to go there. I certainly didn't either. But this was rather important.

I was just reaching the upper tiers of the laboratory using backdoors and passages only a knowledgably judge could know, when I heard a large clamor. I flattened myself to the wall instinctively as the voices grew louder.

"You have no appreciation for my work!"

"And you have no appreciation for your family, _Father_."

"Insolent boy! I have done everything for you, set your way for you, given you good work, a good path-"

"I don't want that path!" Balthier screamed from some ways down the left corridor, "You let my mother to die, and me to take care of her! Gods father-"

"Exactly my boy! Those Gods! _Exactly. _You must understand -"

"You can't blame them for her death anymore!"

"This isn't _about_ that, Ffamran! This is about all of us! History, mankind. Isn't that right, Venat?"

"Spare me, Cid," I heard him groan, "There is _no one there._ These lies are inside your mind, this hatred of Gods and Fate-"

"Our fates our not our own, and that is not as it should be. We must make it our own!"

"You can't undo the past, father."

"This isn't about the past!" Cid roared, and I clung to the wall a little tighter at his agonized cry. "This is about our future! Archades, and the world!"

"You are no hero," Balthier spat.

"And you keep trying to run away from your duty. What does that make you, my son?"

"Tired of your games!" he barked a disbelieving laugh. "I'm tired of this life! I'm tired of you making the world all about you and never about anything else but your _all important work _and your _voices_ and your _make believe. _Stop living for fantasy and realize that I miss the man who _used to care about **me **_more than his _stones._"

There was a few moments of silence after that. And then, soft words that I couldn't hear. Another loud clamor, and the sound of a body thudding to the ground. Shit.

I scrambled towards where I'd heard the voices, and narrowly missed a blade as it swished past my ear.

"Wait! Wait, its me!" I yelped, dodging and falling into the wall. At first, I didn't think I even phased him, until his eyes cleared of their rage.

"I won't be caught again," he said lowly.

"I know. You're not safe here," I hissed. "Bastieel wants you dead. You can't go back to them - and you can't deal with them anymore, Balthier," I pleaded.

"_No one_ is telling me what to do anymore," he exclaimed, making me jump.

"Well, please don't go and get yourself killed in a fit of teenage angst," I growled back, looking past his shoulder at the oncoming clamor from the stairwell. "You have to get out of here. Come on," I tugged him, breathing into the cloth that still covered my face and brow.

We were preparing to escape down the back stairs when two men adorned in black stepped before the door. They pulled their blades not at me, but Balthier.

Assassins.

"Go the other way," I told Balthier who was unarmed, "Two hallways down and to the left. There's an airshaft. Use it to get out. I'll take care of these two," I drew the Strahl from its sheath beneath my robes. "Just go!"

And, the boy ran. I stayed. As always, just before battle, there was a few moments of silence and stillness -

And then one blade went hissing by my ear and the other I parried. I spun, heaving the far heavier blade towards the first assassin while I tried to get behind the second. The weight was too much for one hand alone and I felt my thumb pull at its tendons. I growled, but managed to knock the blade from one of the dark men. Not that it mattered - as I turned to parry the other's blow, the man grabbed my clothed head at slammed, really slammed, my face into the metal corridor. I sunk down to the ground, dazed. I wondered for a moment why they weren't stabbing me, when I realized they were instead staring at me. I couldn't figure out why, until I saw that one of them held the cloth that had been covering my face.

"You would try to play the servants of gods," one man sneered, "Meant to kill him, but you helped him escape. You are a fool." He raised the blade -

And a bolt went through the ribs of his exposed underarm and got stuck in his other arm, through his chest. He choked, dropping the blade, staring at the cylinder of steel protruding from his body. The other wasted no time in scrambling for the sword I'd made him drop. I lurched after him, only to receive a well-placed kick to the ribs, followed by knee to my collar bone. I felt the disgusting grating feeling of things breaking in your body and I felt my body just lose function as I fell to my knees, head bowed. I was confident that I was all ready for my execution, pose and all, and winced when I heard the sound of metal cutting into a body, certain it was my own. But, the dull splatter of a broken body didn't come from me. I looked up - Itsarik was taking off his helm, panting and staring at me.

"What happened?" he gasped. "These men-"

"Tried to murder Cid and his son," I ground out, waves of agony washing over my broken frame. "Take the bodies, try to figure out who they are-" I growled in pain as Itsarik helped me rise. "I need to go to the white mages."

So, we advert disaster. A few broken bones here and there, but; Cid, save a bump on the head was fine, Gods knew where Balthier was but he wasn't _dead, _I spent a glorious four hours in the healer's wing being treated and my cover still wasn't blown.

Last night, when I was finally released to go back to my quarters, I drug my stiff and sore body into my shower, and just lay on the floor like a newborn for at least an hour. I really do enjoy my unlimited hot water. I wish I hadn't felt every pore and follicle, though. I felt awful.

And then, just as I managed to get myself into bed and under my covers, I hovered in a foggy, painful half sleep for some time. It was after what could have been ten minutes, or a hour, that I felt the mattress depress behind me. I made a soft, pained noise and roused myself from my dozing.

"It's alright," he breathed behind my ear, and settled against my curled back and legs. "Go back to sleep."

So, I slept.

* * *

My readers - I am sick. As a dog. A sad, sick dog. That, and I have a new job, so I apologize for the lateness of this post. 

Oh… and atch te te pe dot slash slash digitalteahouse dot com slash straydog

Enjoy!


	15. Chapter 15

**Spring 71st 703ov**

Gods, has it been so long since I've written?

I'm between a rock and a hard place, here. I'll try to find the time tomorrow to write.

**Spring 72nd 703ov**

So much has happened, here. Where do I begin?

Balthier… Gods, Balthier. We are not seeing eye to eye at _all._

I remember that day a week ago clearly as freshly frozen ice. In fact, I believe the last frost of the season greeted me that morning as I rose from bed, the open window tinged with the fingerprints of the ice father. I threw my feet over the side of the bed and frowned when my breath puffed steam into the ridiculous chill of my room. Gabranth moaned in his sleep, reaching for the place I'd vacated in an unconscious search for warmth.

Leaving the room, I heard the steady soft beep of a message awaiting me in transit coming from my comm. I turned, making sure that Gabranth was still asleep, and shut the door behind me. Leaning against the wall, I padded the access code and listened to a few left messages from my commanders in my fleet, nothing too serious. I was mid-yawn when I heard the low scratch of Balthier's voice rasp through the small metal box.

"So, you've cut me off from your business, I see. Trying to protect me? Or keeping me in the dark?" he seethed. "I do hope you know what you're doing."

And the messaged ended.

After his attempted murder, I had informed those closest to me and my connections with the Bastieel to try and keep Balthier out of it. I don't know what I'd do with myself if that boy was harmed trying to help me in ways that I fear he no longer could without risking his life.

And now, he was pissed off.

Since that day, we'd exchanged a message here or there - each resulting with an angry rebuttal or argument. He wanted to help - I told him it was too dangerous. His contacts were now either all dead, or missing - couldn't he see it was too dangerous?

The balance of power grates and wanes in Archades, as it always does, but these past weeks have been wearisome. The senate has caught wind of the attempts on Judge's lives, and, like all politics, its used to create discord within this city's walls. With fear, comes power. The senate, or, its usually outranked and outgunned minority attempts to use this danger to their advantage and I absolutely _hate_ it. I had to bite my lip til' it bled to keep my mouth shut during the proceedings these past days.

And afterwards, I stand in the washroom, staring at myself in the mirror, a trickle of blood tripping down the corner of my lips.

I look nothing like my father now. Our eyes used to be so the same. Mother told me that we were twin souls sharing two bodies, and it was our eyes that gave us away.

Souls? Spirit?

Gods?

I suppose I might as well write it down, even if its hard to say it aloud to myself.

I am so afraid.

It's a fear on a human level that brings me to my knees.

If its true - and I'm fighting a covert war to protect my king and country against the Gods themselves, then, what happens to me?

If I die, where will I go? If the soul is eternal and the Gods our creators, if not gate-keepers, then I'm so afraid…

That I'll die, I'll go to hell, and I'll never see my mom or dad ever again. Surely they are pure souls, good people. In heaven, or its equivalent, somewhere. Hopefully happy together.

And here I am, fucking attacking the God's personal minions on Ivalice.

Who am I to meddle in the affairs of Gods? If this is the way they work, they mold and shape the world, then who am I to stand judge?

Is a Judge of the Empire, worthy of judging on this world, granted enough power to Judge _Gods?_

These concepts, abstract and yet so grounded by primal fear haunt me during the day. Onboard the Ifrit, in my office, at hearings, in and outside of the suit of armor. The cold, snaking fear and the whisper of doubt are a constant companion.

The soft, cultured laugh of Lord Larsa seems to be one the few things that draws a genuine smile to my face these past weeks. At his birthday party, after the cake and the decorations, the games and laughter, he grabbed my hand and tugged me to the grand balcony that oversees the center courtyard. It was a crisp spring day, snow melted, sky clear and blue as sapphires. The drapes billowed and the wind rustled the trees as he stopped his mad skittering and suddenly made still. The boy pointed to one of the grand statues that looked down on the courtyard. I felt overly large next to him in my armor, and he in his best dressed.

"Do you see it?" He asked me.

I followed the line of his small finger and traced it to the statue woman Peseri, the ancient female queen from centuries ago. The statue was worn with time and weather, though her strong cheekbones and intelligent eyes still gazed warmly over the gardens.

And perched upon her shoulder, was a magnificent hawk. I didn't know its breed, but its feathers shone like gold and silver in the sunlight, and even from this distance I could see its wise and calm eyes, resting on me. I swear, it was staring at me.

"It's you, Lord Feneris. It's a brother, or a sister. But I saw it, and it just reminded me of you." He smiled serenely, his combed black hair billowing gently in the breeze. "Noble and brilliant in the morning sun. Smaller than an eagle, or some of the other hunter birds, but no less capable or fearsome."

And those words brought me the first emotional comfort that I'd had in some time. I don't know why, but they seemed to strengthen a part of myself that is made of spirit, of soul. A part that no bandage can heal, no ointment can sooth, and yet… a child's words can help.

Well, there is another source of comfort.

And I swear, we have the most random relationship. We touch, we don't. We sit near each other during subpoenas and court, we stand as far away as possible during fleet briefings. His eyes are clouded, his thoughts a thousand miles from here, and then sometimes, during lunch and our helms are off, his eyes are only for me.

If Drace has suspected anything of our… I don't even know if you can call it a relationship, she doesn't let on. When around others, and even when with only her, we act much as we did before. Only, he seems to be less of a mentor figure as I handle more and more responsibility. Drace becomes less of a shoulder to lean on, and more someone to discuss politics and Larsa, with the occasional swapping of recipes.

And Gabranth and I, it seems more of a marriage of convenience sometimes. We have late dinners together after a long day every so often. We sit a little closer than we normal would reading over reports. Once, last week, after a hellacious day, we collided in the elevator shaft - myself heading home to shower and he heading to a late congruence of his three commanders arriving from Dalmasca. I ripped off my helm and it thudded dully against the side of the door as my arm went slack and I allowed, for a moment, my frustration to be seen.

He removed his own helm, and leaned close, pressing a soft, hesitant kiss to the corner of my lips. By the time I opened my eyes, having not even realized they had closed, he was out of the lift and his helm was back on.

And that's the extent of kissing we've done. Still, that one moment meant a lot to me.

And in this whirlwind of politics, crusading of Gods and their chosen - attempted assassinations, and chaos, a part of me is calm. Sometimes, during the middle of the day when by all rights I should be screaming my lungs out at the Senator who suggests we start asserting more of our power by taking yet more, bigger, richer neighboring countries, a part of me just… relaxes. Like, I know that this is happening, and that it's alright.

It might be the beginnings of insanity, or some kind of mental disorder. I hate this job.

And then, the most unexpected thing happened last night.

Gabranth is as busy as any of us - perhaps only second of Zargabaath with his new duties of security and the senators. Often, he and I have completely opposite schedules during the day. But at night, every night, whether it be midnight or five in the morning, he comes. Sometimes I'm overwhelmed and bone tired and awake the next morning to him; sometimes I'm already awake, haunted by thoughts of never seeing my family again when he comes silently, dark as a shadow until he crosses the path of my high, narrow window, the moon's light washing over his face and making his hair like white gold.

And last night, I was half awake at least, tossing and turning. A light rain fell outside my window, and the flutter of distant lightning cast soft flares of light in the room. Gabranth pulled back the covers silently, and I felt the bed depress more than I heard it. He was warm - he was always warm. He'd showered prior to coming - I could smell his soap and the faint musk of his aftershave on him. He coughed softly and pulled his arms behind his head, staring upwards.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"What's wrong with you?" he countered.

Ah, touché. We weren't so good with sharing what bothers us.

"I'm afraid I'm going to hell and I'll never see my parents again," I said bluntly. His breathing hitched in disbelief at my confession.

"Why-"

"And what's been bothering you?" I skirted the issue by asking. He looked at me oddly, and then replied -

"My twin brother achieved the rank of lieutenant commander today for the Dalmascan army."

I felt my jaw drop. Twin? He looked at me again, a small smirk on his features illuminated by the coming storm.

"Did I win the battle of hiding the greater secret?"

I wanted to tell him he was loosing by far, but that would betray the game.

We spoke for some time then of Basch, his twin. It was painful for him, I could tell. They had been close, very close. Aren't all twins? But, Basch chose to leave a hopeless situation of defending Landis while Gabranth, or Noah, as it were, chose to stay and the bitterness was apparent as he ground out the story. We talked long into the night, though little about my issues, and more of the pain of being separated by one you cared so much for. I knew something of that pain, but my own longing for my family had not twisted into the combination of deep concern and deep anger that Noah held for Basch.

I think I dozed off toward the end of his musings, as much as I tried to stay awake.

And I woke a while later to a loud discharge of thunder. Despite being flat on my back I didn't jump - years of training kept my eyes closed though my heart felt like jumping rope. Beside me, Gabranth cursed under his breath and squirmed against me and hissed in annoyance. I frowned and was about to sleepily ask what was wrong, when I felt something hot and hard against my left thigh. He groaned softly again, apparently trying to will the situation away.

I moved, slowly, as if still sleeping. He inhaled sharply as my muscled leg ground against him as I rolled to face him, tucking my nose between the pillow and his neck and collar. His breath came hot against the nape of my neck and he swallowed hard, his throat working against my brow. Thunder rolled low in the sky as I gently placed open-mouth kisses where his shoulder met the muscle of his neck. The thunder masked the deep sound his throat made, but I felt the rumble against my nose. It was, drowsy, though no less sharp a feeling - the feel of his skin on my tongue and the rewarding sounds that vibrated his vocal chords that I could feel, as if I were playing an instrument.

Somewhere along the way, I was slid atop him and the heat, the brilliant heat felt so good. His hands, callused by years of killing and fighting, slid between my thin sleeveless shirt and were rough against my back, following the twin muscles that lined my spine and I moaned as they traveled feather light against my skin. My mouth finished its long trek of muscle and skin, ending at the heat of his mouth and he claimed me, hands clamping down on my waist as he kissed me frantically. His tongue stroked hot and fast against my own as he breathed in hot, noisy drags through his nose. Roving hands slid of their own accord on my back, and as our frenzied kissing grew more breathless, his hand reached and pulled on me, grinding our hips together. We broke apart as if scalded, the intense feeling of heat and pleasure rocketing through my veins and we moaned in unison.

"Gods, Fen-" he tried to breathe and choked, his head tilting back as I rested my weight on his chest, sliding my hands up his ribs, to his sides, and to his biceps as I hoped to share the way he'd made me feel in the closet by nurturing his own exposed earlobe. He bucked, his chest pressing against my own as he arched towards me. He let out a deep, unguarded panting sound as I circled the shell of his ear, and it was probably the most arousing noise I had ever heard.

As the rain fell harder and pounded against the stone and metal siding of the building we gasped and moved against each other. And for the first time in my life, when he looked up at me and reached to cup my cheek, it felt right - it felt safe. He flipped us in a fluid motion and pulled off my shirt, looking down at me with humble eyes before finding my gaze again. Trembling, he traced the long trailing scar from Dammon with his index finger before leaning down to my chest and doing something gods-awful amazing with his tongue. What could I do but reach for the low waistband of his sleep pants and tug. He paused, and looked at me again, and I saw something then, a connection so primal and raw that I, to my utter embarrassment, hiccupped as a tear escaped me. And he smiled.

I ground up to him with hips and felt the hot rush of enjoyment as I trapped him against our pelvises. His jaw dropped and the intensity of the situation jumped forward - we kicked off whatever clothing was left and he lowered him self to simply rest on me. The feeling of skin on skin was like a drug. It was so important - so utterly important -

"Please," I begged, breathless. For a moment, I thought he would oblige me, but instead of going within, he slid himself along me and started to thrust against. I heard noises - it took me a moment to realize they were coming from _me._

"Feneris," he panted, eyes squinting tight as he continued to torture us with slow rubbing. I felt myself build - each movement, each sweet groan that came from him - I couldn't take it. I wanted to do this together so terribly much - sharply adjusted my hips and before he could react, pulled him inside. His face was so perfect - slack, empty of anything undesired, so unlike every other moment of the day. Everything was right. As the thunder rolled and lightning flashed, he opened his eyes and bared down at me.

"Ok?" I panted, eyes wide.

He shook his head and leaned down closer to me, our stomach's heaving and touching, his hands beside my face. He kissed me ever so gently on the brow, and rested against me fully, his lips by my ear-

"Perfect."

And we rocked together. Slowly. Such connection - his controlled breaths dissipating to harsh gasps in my ear, the way he gripped my shoulders, his jaw working soundlessly - All that mattered was going faster. I was hardly aware when he moved us with his strength, muscles vibrating and shuddering and we were on our sides. He continued to buck against me, a hand coming between us and circling, endless circles, faster and faster -

And then, time seemed to stop - lighting flashed and he opened his eyes. Our noses touched, we were so close - close as two people could be -

And the roar of thunder shook the building as we shook together - something in me just exploded - I didn't know if the thunder was outside or inside of me. And I was not alone - he shuddered, burying his face in my shoulder as he gripped my shoulder blades in a bruising hug. Endless - and then, cool waters, lapping at my consciousness and the delicious sensation of being held through it all, even then. And then I knew no more.

Gods just thinking about it makes me want to go grab him out of court and do it again. Perhaps not even for the physical feeling, but for the way it soothed my aching soul.

But, this changes everything. I don't know if I can continue to risk my life - and know, that if one of us is hurt or injured, the other will be hurt too. But I can't seem to make myself go - I can't leave him.

Just like I can't leave Archades to danger, or Larsa, or anyone. I've lost too much as it is.


	16. Chapter 16

**Spring 80th 703ov**

I've never been a real morning person. Zargabaath and I met for coffee and a briefing at the ungodly hour of seven in the morning. I was less than functional, more automatic. Even with coffee.

Sometimes, I wish my job allowed for naps. I probably could do it in the suit - during a senate gathering. As long as I didn't snore, no one would ever know.

**Spring 81st 703ov**

I had the most terrible nightmare last night.

And it was just so _strange._

The light in the dream were blurry and bleached out, too bright for the scene. I was in… I was in the capitol, Archades. I was with a man who's name I can't remember, and I don't remember ever seeing him before. We were running, racing after someone, tearing through the lower city. Everything was older; the flag of Archades bore the old insignia, not used in a hundred years.

Running, hearing my heartbeat thud in my head - what were we running for? Or after? Or from? I didn't know, it was all a blur -

I remember, we found the man we were looking for. He was trapped in a dead end, and he whirled around to face us.

He was horrifying. His skin was yellowed and pale and his hair was thinning; his eyes were rimmed with red and his body was deathly thin.

"Under direct orders from King Arzachel, you are commanded to return to the safe house-" my unknown companion panted and growled, pointing his drawn sword at the scraggly man.

"S-safe house? You mean, place to die. Nothin' safe about that place," the man spat at us, and in the unnatural light, I could see the spittle contained blood. "Inn't fair! Inn't fair that I have to die!"

"We know," the man tried to soothe as he caught his breath. "We're searching for a cure and we want to know where you are when we find-"

"Bullshittin' lies!" the sick man screamed, "This plague's been goin' round' for years! Tired of all the lower people bein' left to die! I'mmin goin' to the upper Archades, and I'mma _show _them what its like! I'mma infect em' all!"

And the man charged at us. My body moved without my permission - I moved to block my nameless companion from the charging man. And I held my blade steady - But it was like slow motion.

I felt the man's craggy, puss-filled fingernails dig into my skin as I sheathed my sword in his gut. His blood, goopy and almost black, poured over my old-military style armor.

Then, it was like time had no meaning. I was in a room bathed in white light. There were men in white robes - mages of the old order, and I was shaking.

I was shaking in fear.

The man I'd saved was standing behind a glass panel. One of his palms was on the glass, as if he could reach me through the barrier.

And then, upon a monitor, I saw a series of numbers and jumbled things that were blurry in the dream. But one thing was clear. A big red symbol flashing over and over.

_Highly infected._

I was going to die.

I was going to die a painful, horrible death. It was as if I could feel my insides change, and begin to fail me.

And I was utterly terrified.

When I woke from the nightmare, I wasn't even sure I was awake. I was shaking so badly, my brow cracked against Gabranth's jaw as he bound me to his torso. I wasn't really crying, more like having a panic attack. Gabranth shushed me gently, rocking us back and forth in the bed until I was able to make sense of reality again. And it felt so deliciously wonderful to know that I was healthy; my insides weren't being attacked by some horrible disease. The relief I felt was palpable and I sagged bonelessly against the other judge.

"What was that about?" he asked incredulously, leaning back against the pillows and taking me with him. As I settled against his shoulder I just swallowed and let out a shaky, breathy 'nightmare'. I gripped his hand tightly, and held it the rest of the night, close to my heart.

This morning, when I was all suited up and waiting outside one of the various second floor meeting rooms, I paused beside Drace and looked at her quizzically.

"What is it?" She asked, her aristocratic voice bouncing inside her helm.

I hesitated, and then asked -

"Do you know much of Archadian history, my lord? Don't you have an outrageously huge library of books on the subject?"

She nodded wordlessly.

"Was there ever an emperor named… Azr.. Az -"

"Arzachel."

"Yes!"

She nodded conversationally. "He was king almost two centuries ago, during the great separation of Church and State. He was an invaluable leader who helped lead our government from one of Pagan Monks as leaders with government leaders to a fully functional Republic. He laid the foundations for the formation of the Senate." She turned to helm towards me. "If you are interested, I have several volumes of my library dedicated towards him. After all, his brother married into my family line."

"Really," I murmured. I wondered if I'd heard of him at some point, and my unconscious mind had placed him into my dreams. It had happened before.

"He also saved all of Archades from the plagues, if not the world."

And at that, my heart started to pound for no reason.

"Plagues?"

Drace let out a musical laugh.

"Honestly. Didn't you pay attention to history in tutoring? The plagues, the twenty year plague that ravaged this continent. Wiped out half of Ivalice's population."

Alright, so it was major history. Surely I had heard of it somewhere before -

"Though the details of the cure and Arzachel's part in it are not widely known. In fact, the only reason I've heard that story is simply because it was passed down through my line."

"What happened?"

Her helm flickered towards me for an instant - a tell; she was staring at me, but trying not to be obvious about it. After a moment, she replied,

"Not in the history books, apparently two people within the honor guard of Arzachel, the order of Arcas, secret lovers, as it were," she cooed, enjoying the storytelling, "made some kind of sacrifice to find a cure, and then gave that knowledge to Arzachel, whom took all the credit. In the historians view, it was all noble Arzachel, though I enjoy thinking of history with the little details not commemorated by official documents."

I felt light headed.

How could I have known that? How could I _dream_ about an event that I'd never even heard of before?

**Spring 83rd 703ov**

We lost Larsa.

We _lost. Larsa. _

We got him back, but we still lost him to begin with.

I don't think I'm going to be able to keep solid food down for a week.

It was Gramis, Ghis, Gabranth, Drace, and myself. Zargabaath was in plainclothes, and I had Itsarik and about a dozen of our people behind us. Who the hell knew what Bergan was doing.

The Archadian zoological estate has been renowned throughout Ivalice for at least four centuries. We have the greatest collection of foreign wildlife in the world. And its Larsa's favorite place _in the whole wide world. _So Gods forbid he doesn't get to go once every few months.

It was slightly overcast, though it didn't bother Larsa in the least. Then again, I sense it could have been a combination of blizzard, hail, hurricane and tsunami and that boy will still drag us all to the zoo. I shrugged my shoulders, stretching my muscles beneath my armor. Drace and Gabranth were behind me, talking quietly while Gramis, Ghis, and Larsa were up ahead. The sun danced in an out of the clouds, the spring morning crisp and full of new life. Trees were blossoming, the air was filled with deep, rich scents of floral life and moisture.

As we strolled through the empty pathways, (the zoo had yet to open; better for added security for the Emperor and his son), I gazed at the animals. We had a Rozarrian Howler Wolf, and he regarded me silently with brilliant green eyes as we passed. Larsa's favorite was the Sun Emperor Lion from the highlands. I had to admit, I had sketched the great beast in my sketchbooks more than once. He was framed in a halo of golden fur while the rest of him was a deep brown color. This one's name was Plato, and he'd been at the zoo since I was a teenager. As our entourage gathered around the lion and Larsa pointed and waved to the creature, I tried to stifle a yawn as it cracked my jaw, my chin hitting the bottom of my helm.

The employees of the zoo began filtering into the compound. Not the trainers or zookeepers, but the custodians and the creditors, the people who worked the menial jobs. I kept my eyes behind us on the newcomers. As pathetic as it was, I knew that anyone at anytime could be from Bastieel.

The stress of it was taking its toll on my psyche. I could have sworn that one of the zookeepers in the Lion's pit looked familiar.

Gods, I wished I'd paid more attention to my gut.

We dallied around for another hour or so, before making our way back through the winding maze of creatures. At this point, I was in desperate need of coffee, and Drace had no qualms making fun of my situation. Larsa pattered on ahead, racing back to the Lion's outdoor enclosure, and I assumed that Gramis was paying attention to him for the moment.

"Do you honestly believe Senator Dracus to accept Femarin's policy? Its absurd," Ghis scoffed at Gabranth from behind me. "If we attempt to tax our citizens anymore, then house Solidor will lose favor. I much prefer the earlier idea of having an import and export tax - at least then -"

And there was a blood-curling scream.

We ran like a heard of rabid rhinoceroses, all clanking metal and unsheathing weapons. But Larsa was not in danger from an enemy with steal blades.

He was in danger from claw and fang.

He was _in the bloody lion enclosure._

I couldn't figure it out; all of the gates were sealed, how had he -

"Larsa! Larsa!" Gramis screamed, his elderly voice quivering with unguarded terror.

"Larsa, don't move," Zargabaath bellowed, racing forward from the pack of unclothed judges behind us. "Maintain eye contact - Gods," he hissed under his breath. "Stare him down boy!"

My eyes scanned frantically for a way to get in the enclosure to the young prince but all the gates were locked and topped with barbed steel. The lion, perhaps hungry, was now pacing and staring at the child. Larsa had backed as far against the stone barrier as he could - how had the child gotten over the twenty foot deep stone moat surrounding the enclosure? And how could we -

And Ghis was dragging one of the other zookeepers towards the gates, screaming for keys -

And the lion roared angrily, and advanced on my charge -

And there was a mass of people watching with horror... two of the custodians were standing a ways back, watching with deadly calm -

Gramis was screaming -

And the lion charged towards Larsa. My voice leapt from me, and each of us howled, helpless -

And then there was a miracle.

Two brilliantly shining golden hawks descended from out of absolutely nowhere and screamed hell and brimstone at that lion, flapping their wings in his face and distracting the beast. The lion squinted and growled low in his throat, taken a back by the sudden attack. One hawk scratched at his eyes with his talons while the other made crazy noise near its left ear. Cowed, the lion jumped back just as one of the other zookeepers managed to get the security entrance open with a shaking hand unlocking the door. Zargabaath scrambled to the edge of the cement moat, followed closely by Gramis, much to the judge's dismay. The zookeeper hasted to place a emergency plank down for Larsa to cross as the boy galloped over to us as fast as his tiny legs could carry him.

Safely outside the enclosure, the two hawks ascended unnoticed as we all circled around Larsa.

"My boy - my boy," Gramis said, grabbing Larsa by his cheeks, mushing his face.

"What happened?" Zargabaath asked sternly, getting on one knee before the prince.

Shaking and obviously traumatized, it took a moment before he could speak.

"T-there was the z-zoo keeper, he was in the g-gate, he asked me if I wanted to throw the lion a t-treat - and as soon as I got there," he shuddered, "He grabbed me and _threw_ me over the barrier. F-father, forgive me -" And then, bravery dissolved, the child burst into tears and clung to his father.

Thoughts of drowsiness vanished, I took a few steps back from the group and looked out into the park. The two male janitors were gone, their sweeping sticks abandoned by the fence they stood near. Not like a janitor to leave equipment around.

_Shit._

A shadow passed over my helm and looked up. There, the two hawks were perched, looking down at Larsa with interest. They cocked their heads when they noticed my gaze. And I swear, they saw me - they _knew who I was. _They knew they saved Larsa. And then, they ascended to the sky. What the hell?

As we formed an impenetrable barrier around our royalty and made haste to leave, I over heard some of the staff gossiping about the morning's events.

"Damndest thing. First, that kid gets into the cage, and then, two of our only Storm Hawks in this part of the _world_ escape. _Damndest thing."_

I'm getting this deep foreboding feeling - things are in motion and I have no control. Things are happening according to a script I haven't read -

All I had to ground me this evening was a quiet dinner with Zargabaath, Drace, and Gabranth. Out of uniform and gathered around Drace's living room coffee table, eating our dinner of white cactuar chili and hardly saying a word. After dinner, there was small, idle chatter about the usual; politics, books we were reading, whatever. In the kitchen, Drace was cleaning up. Gabranth rose and stood beside her, standing shoulder to shoulder with her as he helped her dry the dishes. For a moment, Drace leaned against him, and he supported her, whispering something softly.

"Zargabaath," I whispered, leaning towards the Judge to my left, "What are we going to do?"

He looked up at me with haunted eyes.

He didn't know. No one knows. And the uncertainty and stress just eats away at us.

That night, Gabranth stayed with Drace for a long time; I was already in bed and trying to sleep (unsuccessfully) when he padded into my room. We didn't say a word; what was there to say? There was only the vulnerability we couldn't seem to fight. Gabranth curled up with his back to me, and after a moment, despite my far smaller frame, I curled around him and pressed my brow and nose to the back of his neck as I reached around and gripped his stomach.

What good are warriors of armor, steel, and fear if we can't use our strength against the enemy? An enemy we can't _see?_


	17. Chapter 17

**Summer 2nd 703ov**

The last few nights I've been blessed with a dreamless sleep; and desperately needed.

Since the incident with Larsa, his security as well as the security of the royal court has become far more paramount. Judge Magisters now work longer hours than ever.

I try desperately not to think about my strange dreams I had last week. It seems I am ill-equipped to deal with them right now.

**Summer 6th 703ov**

I met with the Bastieel today; Dammon and the woman, to be exact. Near Phon Coast, in a little bed and breakfast that over looks the sea.

Dammon commented that I looked haggard. I simply supplied that my job was getting harder as their attempts on the royal family and Judge's lives grew more terrifying. It wasn't a lie, exactly. The woman was without sympathy.

"You are supplying us with necessary information to serve the will of the Gods," she said tartly, "Just as everyone else in your position within the capitol. They understand that they are doing is a great honor, yet I sense you are ever bitter, Kira."

"She is tired of the struggle, like the rest of us," Dammon soothed as he sipped his drink and stared out to the sea. "The sooner we rid ourselves of those who try to meddle with the God's decisions, the sooner this world will be at peace."

And I have to ask - would a world at peace be so bad?

Or; would it be a world without free will or choices?

Something about that just doesn't sit right with me.

**Summer 8th 703ov**

It's getting more pleasant outside. The rainy season reached its climax last week, and clear and crisp mornings are more and more common. I took Larsa for a walk today, Itsarik behind me and Gara up in front. The boy is what, eight now? Today he was using a bamboo stick for a sword and stabbing at invisible enemies on the dirt path of the gardens.

"Do you think that I'll ever be a great a swordsman as Judge Gabranth, Lord Feneris?" he panted, slashing and cutting the air. "Or you, for that matter."

"Of course you will, my lord," I replied, sun temporarily blinding me as a beam penetrated my helm, "You're already better than Zargabaath and Ghis combined."

"Nonsense!" the child laughed, circling me and tapping the sharp ends of my armor. "Brother Vayne has been teaching me rudimentary defense - can you tell?"

"Well, if you mean by distracting your enemy with friendly chatter, oh yes, you're well defended indeed."

Our friendly banter is such a soothing balm to my frayed nerves. If only it could be enjoyed without the constant fear of assassination for himself, or me.

This evening, I was hunched over in my living room after my last court session for the day, staring without seeing at the thin red crystal I had received in the cave after the destruction of Atomos when my door churned open. I glanced up dully to receive Gabranth. He was recently showered and his hair was mussed as he clambered into my chamber. Behind him, Drace followed, also out of uniform and holding a plate.

"You need to eat something. You neglected lunch, and dinner," she said softly, setting the dish before me. A cut of meat and slices of cheese wafted their scent and my stomach rumbled to life.

"You know me so well," I thanked her, setting the crystal on the table. Gabranth settled beside me, hands clasped before him but warmth seeping into my side. My eyes flitted up and I saw Drace's gaze hard on us, but it diverted before I could make eye contact with her.

"What is that?" She asked quickly, motioning to the crystal.

"I… acquired it in a cave up north," I mumbled around a mouthful of food. "A souvenir, if you will."

"It is most odd. It has almost a warm feel to it," she said as she examined it in her long, articulate fingers. I nodded, surprised that my plate was empty and I hadn't really put much thought into eating it. My senses revived themselves and I became aware of the stated feeling of having eaten, the attractive smell of Gabranth's aftershave and the low thrumming of airtrams circling the capitol.

"Drace, you know me better than I know myself. Thank you."

She nodded, her graying brown hair braided loosely and curled over a shoulder. Her eyes flitted next to me.

"He's grown truly comfortable around you," she said slowly. I looked at her quizzically and turned. Gabranth's head had dipped; his chin to his chest, baring the top of his blond head to us and nothing more. I nodded almost imperceptibly. "How different things are now - I remember when you were just a pup, wet behind the ears and terrified of him. Look at you now."

Look at me now.

I suppose a lot has changed in barely a year's time. Drace must have felt awkward, and left for bed soon after, and as I lay on the couch, Gabranth dozing against my back, I took out this journal and flipped back to its first entries, and scribbled this down. I should probably wake him and herd us to bed, but its peaceful on the couch with the window open, and he's warm and safety incarnate to me right now. So, I'll stay a bit longer.

**Summer 16th 703ov**

There is no place more welcome than where I am now. He's warm, he's safe. Private room in the healer's ward; Gabranth curled around me, a physical wall towards the door and Zargabaath sitting beside me, going over parchment.

I'm alive. I'm _still_ alive.

My body is cut and bruised and my mental heal is shaky at best, but I recognize that I'm alive, and that it is a blessing to have the two men of armor and honor on either side of me

I fell asleep for a bit. Gabranth is still snoring against my neck, arms tight around my mid section. My pen scrawled over the page, obviously and I pray to the Gods that Zargabaath, absent now, didn't flip through this journal. I don't even know what time of day it is - there are no windows in here.

Things went terribly wrong, so terribly, terribly wrong.

When did it begin? I lost track of time for a while there, mostly due to blood loss, I suppose. It began… it began last week sometime. I had scrounged some out-of-date mission plans to appease Bastieel and made the journey, lonely now without Balthier, to the meeting place in Phon Coast again. Garbed in robes and a thin hood, I fumbled with the paperwork, shuffling to the bed and breakfast.

There was a gaggle of people this time, many of whom I recognized. A spark of anger ignited in the base of my spine - Gara, Gods damn _Gara_ was feeding Bastieel, information; Two of Zargabaath's finest pilots; was that the cook who served us at lunch? And that blond -

I could scarcely breathe, the anger was so great.

And, after the heat of rage washed over me, terror was its immediate replacement when I realized that half of these people would probably recognize me as Feneris and not Kira.

Oh _no._

My mind was racing. And then, I made the only choice; I turned right around and walked out of the room, calmly as possible. I didn't turn around, I kept right on walking until I got around the corner of the bed and breakfast. And then I ran as fast as I could for as long as I could, until I sagged against a palm tree some ways off.

And I heard footsteps behind me. I gripped the Strahl and dropped the flimsy parchment.

"Why so afraid, Kira?"

I nodded, mostly to myself. So, this was it. I turned.

The unnamed woman, slinky and sheik as ever in an elaborate and gem-garnished dress fit for a queen, had her hands on her hips. Two thugs were behind her, and several more people behind them. I recognized Gara, and Thum, a blond I didn't know, a dark-skinned man with stark contrasting white hair jutting randomly from his skull, and redhead -

No use delaying the inevitable. I lifted my blade, and then shrugged off my hood - the thin material blowing fiercely in the sea breeze. I heard the gasps of recognition, the waves lapping at the beach, the call of gulls. I stood still.

"Feneris!" Gara hissed in shock, lifting a finger as if I wasn't obvious enough. Bastard.

For the first time, I saw emotion cross the woman's face. It was surprise and a little twitch of her full lips.

"_Judge_ Feneris?"

I lifted my chin and steeled my gaze.

"Yes. I serve House Solidor and Archades."

"A double agent, then? Certainly more than a petty house politician," she said with shimmering anger on the surface. "You fail your Gods, and you fail yourself, fool."

I cocked my head.

"I simply don't find that murdering people is the right way to go about change. Assassinating an innocent and good-hearted eight year old boy by throwing him in a cage with a lion doesn't seem like the work of angels, my dear," I said, voice steady, "Or the will of benevolent Gods either." I looked to the others. "Archades is not perfect at all - there _is _corruption and there _is _lust for power within the house and senate - but such things can be rectified with good _people _- like Larsa, like Gramis - instead of just murdering and plotting death and destruction. Who would replace them? You? The Gods themselves? Are _you_ lusting for the power?"

Looking back on it, I was outrageously calm when by all rights I should have been shaking with fear. Not for my own death - but for my betrayal to the Gods. But as the words poured out of my mouth, I realized they were true.

What kind of Gods demanded subterfuge and murder?

Apparently, she didn't like what I had to say, and who knew she could move so fast. She housed a thin blade between her bossom (how stereotypical of the evil woman) though misjudged my skill - I parried and knocked it away with the hilt of the Strahl and grabbed at her, fingers tugging on the intricate design of her gemstones and yanked her too me. Despite her looks and devastating attitude, she was not a fighter and my muscle mass far outweighed hers. I brought the heavy Strahl to her neck for good measure and glared daggers at the assembled mess of cult members.

"This is not going to end well for her," I said lowly, allowing the edge of the blade to draw a trickle of blood from her exposed throat. She arched against me, and grabbed at my arm but it did her little good.

"You must be destroyed," Gara accused angrily, "Who knows what you've told Gramis about us - I'm surprised you haven't tried to kill us all yet!"

"Have you seen anyone of the empire here?" I narrowed my eyes. "You underestimate me, boy."

"You underestimate your Gods!" He cried back.

"I would like to leave now," I said calmly, tightening my grip on the woman, "So if you'd be kind enough to disperse, I will allow her to go as soon as I'm free from your swords and daggers. Unlike you, I have no desire to murder anyone."

"Let - let her go," the woman said in a wavering voice. Her body was trembling against me in fear and I could feel it through her bones. "We will deal with her later, just let her go!"

Gara shook his head, reaching behind him.

"Sorry love - but the work of the Gods is more important than any of us."

And then, there as bright red pain.

She and I gasped in unison, though I heard it more than I felt it. She quivered, then went limp against me, the blade at her neck scraping skin as she faltered. I tried to let her fall, before I realized we were rather stuck together.

By a long, piercing arrow aimed for her chest.

And for the first time in my life, I was blessed for my relative short height - I heard her lungs fill with blood where as only my shoulder was cut - but the shock was enough.

Within seconds, they were on me. I was disarmed and disconnected from the dying woman, her pretty dress smeared with blood. A sharp stabbing pain exploded at the base of my skull, and I knew no more.

When I woke, it was again in a cell, and again, Dammon was sitting across from me. Only this time, I was worse for the wear and he looked as angry as a rhino.

"She's dead because of you," was all he managed to grind out.

I shook my head, trying to sit up and failing; I felt dizzy.

"She's dead because someone shot us. One of _you._ Barbarians. I was going to let her go."

"Lies! All you are is a lie to us!" he seethed, bushy eyebrows so far down his face his frown seemed to warp his very soul.

"I could have sent the Empire to kill you," I said softly, "and her, a long time ago. Note -" I coughed hard, "Note how you are still here."

"And why didn't you," he sneered, standing up and advancing on my prone body.

I shook my head. To be honest, I didn't really know. I just… I didn't. At the moment, it might have been an error, as I was probably going to die here. I just felt like I needed to keep Larsa out of this mess as much as possible. And now, what to show for it?

To save you as much of a rolling stomach as I can, I'll only say the next hour was unpleasant. I was questioned - I was made to be in pain. I passed out more than once, and was brought back by ice cold water to batter my now burning body. I slept - I woke. It happened again. But I would tell them nothing that they wanted to know of security codes, of interior workings of the high senate.

The next day - was it only the next day? Dammon asked me about Drace.

"Tell me of her. I want to know what she looks like beneath the mask."

"And why?" I whispered, lips cracked and swollen.

"So that I might use her to get to Larsa. That was Estella's greatest wish - to exterminate the Solidors once and for all."

I paused, gazing blankly at the grimy wall.

"Estella," I whispered. So, it was she who's pout and sneer died on my chest. Obviously, Dammon felt something for her. I looked back up at him.

"Was it worth her death?"

I saw a flash of his fist, and knew no more.

When I woke next, I was slumped against the wall. Someone was searing my damaged shoulder and it _hurt. _I gasped awake.

"Silence," the tan man grunted. At first I thought he was next in line for torturing me, and I fidgeted. Then, my blurry gaze found the pan of water and warm cloth. I looked up at him hazily, his mane of white hair bobbing before my vision.

He reared back, much like a lion would indeed, and regarded me with intelligent eyes.

"Where did you get your sword?" He asked not unkindly.

"W- what?"

"Your sword, the Strahl. Where did you get it?"

I blinked, trying to focus through the haze of pain and dehydration.

"It was my fathers."

He was silent for a few moments as I tried to gather the bits and pieces of my consciousness that had scattered during the torture and bind them, when a the man held up a hand, palm out, towards my face.

"Cura."

Softly spoken, I almost didn't hear it, but good lords I felt it. Light, soft and soothing, filling the core of me and taking my broken parts and mending them. I gasped and let my head loll to the side. A moment later, I felt much restored. I looked at him again.

"Did you mean what you said? About Larsa?" He asked, his deep voice like a vibrant string bass in my ears. I frowned at him.

"Lord Larsa is the greatest hope for this empire that I have seen thus far. I don't know Vayne as well as I know Larsa, and I assure you - I would die for him to protect his innocence from Bastieel's venom," I all but hissed, the familiar protective twinge curling around my jaw.

"And they had him thrown in a lion's cage?" the man asked incredulously.

"Oh yes. It was blind luck that he survived that ordeal. It is one of many that befalls my charges."

The man was silent for a while, before regarding me calmly.

"Do you know Gabranth?"

"Of course. I was his apprentice."

"And he was mine."

I choked on my spittle and stared at him.

"I served as magister as well, before entering early retirement when the politics and corruption of Archades grew to be intolerable," the dark skinned man continued, hands clasped before him. "I joined the Bastieel because serving the Gods seemed as if it had greater purpose than serving corrupt politicians." He shook his head, tuffs of white hair swaying before his eyes. "And yet… the words you spoke earlier, they strike chord. Things have not been as I expected them to be. Gods should not demand his followers to murder."

"And what of these 'stones' they speak of? It just winds and winds," I mused, rubbing the bridge of my nose. I looked up at him. "I do know this - I have to protect that boy."

He said nothing for a moment, and then asked -

"Do you believe him a good master? Better than Vayne - more honorable than Gramis?"

"Absolutely."

He nodded.

And stood. Wrapped in cloth was a large object and he grasped it, freeing it of the fabric. It was the Strahl.

"Your father was a good man, Naiyel. You honor him by carrying his sword."

And then, he handed it to me.

"Now lets get you out of here and back to Archades."

"W-what?" I sputtered.

"I will take care of the two lower guards that know you, and I leave Gara up to you. Those should be the only ones who recognize your face," the man said pleasantly. "It will still be dangerous - your life now has a price on it, as will mine when I leave this place. But you are right. This is not right - _not right."_

I swallowed and gripped the Strahl. I felt better, but not one hundred percent - the heavy metal pulled my arm downward. I looked up at the man.

"What is your name?" I asked.

He regarded me coolly.

"I was Judge Zecht."

"Judge Zecht -" I breathed, "I sense we could have been good friends. Please… please promise me - as fool hearty as it is to ask a promise of a man you've just met -"

He raised a white eyebrow.

"If… if I fail - if I fail to protect Larsa - if I fall, if I can't discern the mystery of these stones -"

The words were unspoken. But he appeared to be an honorable man. He nodded in understanding.

"We will see. Now go."

It was nighttime. I stumbled out of the cell with wobbly legs like a newborn deer and hugged close to the dingy wall. A single window near the ceiling told me I was in a lower level of wherever I was. I turned to face Zecht.

"Where is Gara?"

The man pointed towards the only open and lit door in the hallway, some ways down, and then left me, his footfalls silent in the darkness for such a large man. I gripped the Strahl tightly. I edged to the doorway some hundred footfalls later and held my breath.

Gara was hunched over parchment, back to the door, sipping from a glass of red wine. I felt the anger of his betrayal nip at my thoughts again. It was not hard -

Three steps in the door, three steps to the man, and one thrust - smooth and easy, so sharp the Strahl's blade. He gasped into my hand as I held his mouth and his body shuddered from the attack. He and I both looked down. The carvings of the hawk that adorned the Strahl's blade protruded bloodily from his torso and could not be mistaken.

"You betray more than me, Gara," I whispered in his ear, "You betray your honor."

And so now, I lay, curled into a fetal position on a semi-padded healer's cot with Gabranth secured around me like gift wrapping.

Bastieel knows who I am now, and they will not hesitate to begin plans for my demise, perhaps with more urgency than the Solidors themselves. I play a dangerous game; if I die before I can stop them and don't tell anyone, then it will all be in vain. Except for perhaps the judge, Zecht - but my perception concerning what could be a good man have been wrong before.


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: About the Zecht thing:

He went into retirement for reason's I'll disclose in the final chapters.

He will come back for the FFXII-pre plot.

And he'll go awol after Nabudice, cannon like.

Thanks! Your reviews make me happy. Here is a short chapter to tide you over till the next full-length one.

**Summer 19th 703ov**

Today was horribly awkward.

I'm still a little stiff from the whole torture thing, though slowly it works itself out of my body. I've spent some of my free time in the garden without my armor on, practicing my katas to cleanse my muscles of their paralysis and bruises. The sun grows warmer now as summer approaches. While I felt light as a bird without my armor, the workout was no less strenuous. The Strahl is a heavy blade and must be wielded by a combination of power and quick bursts of muscle. Sweat trickled its way down the ridge of my back and pooled in the valley just above the waistband of my loose fitting pants. I worked until I was drenched but content.

"That's rather attractive, really," Itsarik commented from where he was sitting on a bench, making sure that I didn't get murdered on the spot.

"What is?" I panted, staggering towards him and hoisting the blade over my shoulder.

"All glistening in the sunlight, muscles rippling, so on and so forth. You have a gaggle of peeping toms."

"What?" I barked, and looked around. Oh yes. On the balcony. Larsa, Drace, and Gabranth, with two senators. I winced, feeling naked without my armor and rushed inside and into the lift to my quarters.

I didn't even bother to turn on the lights. I just rested the Strahl against the doorframe to the bathroom and stripped. The small nightlight was still on, but that's all I let illuminate the small room as I dumped my sweaty clothing in a heap. And since we all know my love of hot water, I have no idea how long I stood there, hands braced against the shower wall and head bowed, before the hand on my ribs made me jump so badly I nearly slipped.

"Gabranth!" I hissed, barely making out his form in the darkness. My heart started to pound as he shuffled around and slid into the shower stall with me. Behind me his hands held my waist as he pressed himself against my water-softened skin. I opened my mouth to say something when my speech process was halted by the brushing touch of his lips to the connection of my shoulder and neck. His hands slid from my waist to lock over my knuckles on the shower wall, and if I'd had any reservations prior to his sudden appearance, those all flew out the window. Especially when he pressed forward and pinned me; the shock of the cool tile on my front and the increasing heat of the man behind me was a distracting contrast.

"You looked good out there today," he mumbled as he suckled my earlobe.

"I'm… I'm glad you… liked it," I panted, head lolling to the side as he probed my skin. One of his hands released its crushing grip and traveled down the length of my torso, and I thought for sure my heartbeat was audible through the wall. I bucked hard when he grazed me, and the responding moan he made in my ear was utterly delicious.

"Aren't you… supposed to be… working? This can't be good for-"

He turned me around, his blond hair stuck to his forehead by the heated water cascading down his taught body. The judge silenced my protests by assaulting my mouth. Before I was even aware of it, both my hands were pinned above his head and the whole long length of his hard body sandwiched me. I almost choked on his mouth when his hardness ground perfectly against me and I shuddered hard, squirming back against him helplessly. Dark and hot and wet, that's all I knew and it was just so _good. _This was all about the moment, the desperation reaching a fevered pitch. I let out a deep gurgling gasp as he was suddenly within me, and from then on, I didn't know anything at all; just sensation, soft lighting and the roar of water around me. Faster, harder - It was his own noises, barely restrained and urgent that allowed me to lose myself, I think. I shuddered hard and clung to him like a deranged monkey to its mother as the world exploded again. I was vaguely aware of his own muffled hisses of satisfaction before his own legs wobbled. We somehow ended up in a heap on the shower stall floor, panting and entangled.

"I didn't… expect that," I muttered nasally, as my nose was squashed up against his chest.

"You were inspiring out in the sunlight today," was all he said in response, his arms tightening and his fingers running through my wet hair.

And I have to tell you - there was no moment more appealing for me to tell him how scared I was - to die in ill favor of the Gods, to be murdered, to fail Larsa -

But just like I hadn't said a word about the Bastieel to Gramis, the words of my confession just wouldn't come. And the silence continued.

We lay there like puppies for what felt like eternity. The water never grew cold and I had no desire to move. It was probably the most irresponsible thing I'd done in months.

I liked it.

Eventually, I accepted that I had to move, dress, and get to my meeting. I wondered for a moment if my partner was asleep, so deeply relaxed against the shower wall he seemed to be. But no, he lifted a droopy eyelid at me as I lifted myself off his prone body.

"I never expected this, when I first saw you," he said softly, barely audible over the falling water. I shrugged, and placed a kiss on his golden crown.

"Neither did I."

We gave each other the same, stupid little smile and I toweled off and padded into my bedroom to start dressing in the under layers of my armor. I was buckling my under leathers when I heard my front door churn open. Alarmed, I whirled around and stuck my head out of the doorframe to the living room.

"Feneris! You're late to the summit meeting!" Drace hissed, helm in hand and irritated look on her face. I opened my mouth to say something when Gabranth chose that moment to exit my bathroom clad in nothing but a towel. He stopped dead and lurched when he caught Drace's gaze, and the world froze in terrible awkwardness. I couldn't see Gabranth's expression as his back was to me, but the shock and fiery disbelief in Drace's eyes was enough to make me want to die right there.

And more silence.

And then -

"Do you like her shower better or something?" her voice came out too high pitched for a normal retort.

And you just know that she knew. Drace is a damned intelligent woman. And like most intelligent woman, she's damned if she's going to reveal her true feelings towards you in a situation like this. Personally, I think Drace really likes, if not loves Gabranth, but she refuses to act upon it; emotions frozen in time by the deaths of her family.

It didn't stop it from being awkward, though.

Gabranth didn't say a word as he was still frozen like a statue, gripping the towel around his waist.

"Very well, I expect you both in the council chambers within the half hour."

And then, she was gone.

It didn't even register at first. A few tormented moments later, Gabranth turned to face me, eyes wide and skin pale.

"I feel nauseated."

"Me too."


	19. Chapter 19

**Summer 28th 703ov**

Again, such long absence since my last entry

More dreams, some of them nightmares. All of them are strange colors, as if the sun is too bright and the sky bleached of color.

I almost regret what has happened between my mentor and myself. The time we spend with Drace has become painfully awkward and I long desperately for a time before the complications of partnerships and relationships. I thought perhaps Gabranth would withdraw from our evenings together, but if anything, he comes around earlier than before. I sense things are tense between them, and it burdens me. The last thing I wanted was to cause strife between two Judges.

I grow ever more paranoid, and apparently with good reason. The heat wave finally broke this morning, and it was a blessing. I was out of armor today, clad in a set of deep blue – black leathers and tunic, watching Ghis's back from a far during his siege of that damned underground gambling crew that's been swaggling under-age boys for months. It was a fairly simple raid, and I was there mainly to keep an eye out for suspicious activity or threats to the Magister. As they marched the grumbling and insolent wealthy young boys up in ranks to the transport, I leaned against a cobblestone building and kept watch of the activity when a grand gust of wind ruffled my short hair. I breathed deep and almost groaned with pleasure – the air was thick with moisture. Sure enough, by mid afternoon the deep rumbles of summer rain shook the foundation of the city and the sky and its air trams darkened with storm. I didn't spend my time with the others at lunch. Truthfully, I didn't want to sit there clenched in discomfort and awkward tension. Instead, I fled to the middle-floor outdoor gardens in the center of the capitol building and waited.

And then it came at last – slow at first, a mist almost. Then the heavens opened and it poured. I moved into it eagerly and tilted my head upwards. The rain was cool and soothing in contrast to the dry heat we'd been stranded with these past weeks. The tears of water slid gracefully down my face and along the column of my throat. I always feel cleansed after such a storm, if not slightly damp.

The rain puddled on the stone path and into the soil of the garden, enriching the scent of damp wetness and fresh life in the air. I breathed deep, and I felt better.

And then, as I turned to go, I felt my spine go rigid, from no mental command from me. And then I heard it – the quick scuffle of armored footsteps from behind. Senses immediately alert, I spun to my left, hand at the Strahl's woven hilt. There was a glint of light on metal, and then he was gone, hiding himself in the bushes. My heart began to pound and I swallowed, suddenly wishing desperately for my Magister armor and feeling naked without it. I drew the Strahl as the sky darkened even more with clouds.

He was hunting me. I cursed myself for being so stupid not to tell anywhere where I'd been going to for my lunch break and struggled to peer into the foliage.

My heart pounded so loudly I felt it in my throat and was certain it could be heard over the rain and thunder. Droplets streamed off the Strahl's blade as I held it before me with two hands, moving as quietly as I could over the path. Shadows moved and danced as light was revealed and taken away by the racing clouds above. There – I thought for certain I saw movement of a man behind – but no, was it only the trees blowing in the wind? The chime of the clock tower clanged eerily on the storm air, vibrating at an offending pitch in my ears.

How long I stood there, poised for attack, back to a large Nabraudian Red Maple tree, I couldn't tell you accurately if I tried. I felt like the only still thing in the storm of light, shadow, and moving trees, until I saw the glint of a blade.

I brought the Strahl above me defensively as the offending weapon came at me from the left with a woosh of air and water. Lesser guard – bearing the insignia of House Margrave, and apparently well trained, was all I had time to assimilate as he jabbed offensively at my ill-protected belly and sides. I hissed, sliding the drenched blade scraping up his own, surely causing sparks if not for the rain. He was stronger than I, that was for certain. He slammed into my guard and defense with a brutality that I wouldn't be able to hold up against for long. I felt the air gush out of me in great gasps as I struggled to maintain my perimeter, swords flashing in a whirl of steel and dispelled water. In an attempt to take advantage of my unarmored state, as soon as I spotted the opportunity, I tipped my sword to the ground and put all my weight into a roundhouse kick, nailing the man painfully in the helm. He made no noise, but a trickle of blood mixed with the rain a few seconds later from beneath the helm. But there was little time for my victory, as he retaliated with a harsh blow to the Strahl that actually knocked the blade into me, and threw me off balance. The storm roared – perhaps the God's appreciation for the man's deeds in dispatching one so unworthy as myself? I felt hard, my body jarred upon impact. I struggled to lift my blade to defend, against him, but my brain just didn't seem to be able to send the message fast enough to my hands, and then I knew it was done.

The rain streamed down my face and I blinked hard, trying to clear my vision – why had the final blow not come? He was still standing there above me –

And, just like in my dreams, I then saw the dark red of blood.

It streamed forth from beneath his chest plate, down his waist and legs like a sash. But he did not fall – no, it was the blade protruding from his neck and shoulders, still purchased from the hands that dealt the blow, that sustained him.

The sword was ripped from his guts with a hideous noise of tearing muscle and breaking bone. He fell lifelessly to the side, revealing my savior. Rain moved gracefully off of her balanced helm and down her intricate chest plate. I watched it wash away the blood on her blade.

"Drace-" I panted, fumbling with my blade.

"It's a fool who wanders alone during this precarious time," she said darkly, "and had I not been keen upon picking a few of the ripe peaches for Lord Larsa, you would be dead now."

I swallowed with no retort, and lay there sprawled like a half-drowned man. She snorted, and sheathed her mighty blade. For a moment I thought she would simply leave. But no – she knelt beside me, and wary of her sharp elbow bracer, offered and hand to raise me. I took it eagerly, glad for the contact with her.

"I'll have this one taken down below. No good for interrogation. I shouldn't have killed him," she said conversationally after she hauled me to my feet, "But it seemed to be the most satisfying thing to do at the time."

And to know that she wanted to harm those who would harm me, soothed me just as much as the rain had. I prayed I could repair the damage done to our relationship.

**Summer 31st 703ov**

I learned more about my mysterious dark-skinned savior today.

"Ghis," I asked nonchalantly, weeding through a stack of paperwork at my desk while he admired my newly-acquired and updated map of Archadian airspace to the left of my desk on the Ifrit, "Have you ever known a Judge named Zecht?"

He snorted. "That mistake of a Judge Magister? Of course."

I waited politely for him to continue while he stared at the map, and I cleared my throat softly. He blinked, tearing his gaze away from the map to me and frowned.

"Judge Zecht was a brazen young man when he joined us some years ago. He was under Zargabaath's tutelage when he met a young woman, and, being the young fool he was, wooed her despite his rank and title," Ghis scoffed, "and then he went on to Mentor young Gabranth, command his fleet, complete his duties here, all the while trying to have a family. Fool." I could hear the distain in the middle-aged man's voice as he stepped closer to inspect the map, raising a finger as if too touch it, then stopping at the last moment, millimeters away from the parchment.

"And…?"

"And what?" Ghis grumbled, scratching his chin, eyes still glued in front of him. "Any fool knows they can't keep their loved ones safe forever, especially if you're a Magister. We aren't designed to have families and "love". We're designed to Judge Impartially and defend this Empire and its leaders. Nothing more."

He turned to me at last, reaching for his helm and tucking it securely under his arm.

"The man lost his girl, and then took a leave of absence. A leave of absence that he hasn't come back from. Hence, your being here." And with that, he stalked out of my office with an air of irritation.

Is it just me, or is everything in my life connected someway or another? It's disconcerting.

**Summer 34th 703ov**

It stormed again this evening, and into the night. I was off duty, and perched high above the city. There's an access hatch on the second tier roof of the capitol building, a few floors above Emperor Gramis's audience chamber. I'd left a note for Gabranth on the bed – I just was too tensed up inside to sleep, so I'd made my way upwards in my leathers; no shower necessary. I'd receive it on the roof.

It was a warm summer night, and the plates on the Archadian hatchet-shingled roof were adequately rough enough to prevent me from falling to my death. The heels of my boots were flush against the hump of stone that lined the edge of the roof, and from the vantage point, I could see all of southern Archades.

It was beautiful.

Despite the light rain that misted down on the city, lights were casting a warm yellow glow into the thick air. You could hear the air traffic over the rain, thought it became all of the same night din. There were puttering transport engines and smooth rotary blades propelling wealthier cargo ships and other such vehicles. Below, you could see the ground-based trolley doing its rounds, taking Archadians from one place to the next, for a minimal fee, of course. They were but slow moving worms of creatures from my view, weaving in and out of the city streets. From the streets, rose the shining buildings with curvature known only to Archadian architecture. Gleaming metals, smooth stones combined to create a city of civilized composure and standing. There were artists here, writers and philosophers. People of power, and people without.

But they were still people of my own. And sometimes, I just forget that – these people are the people of my family and of my father. It's why I chose to serve, and do what I've done. What I continue to do.

It was the soft hand on my shoulder that nearly startled me into an unpleasant leap off the building. The blond judge settled beside me, feet coming to stand at attention besides mine on the ledge. There were no words. Just the simple touching of shoulder to shoulder and the luminescence of our city. Well, my city. His now as well. Silent guardians, like gargoyles, watching over their kingdom.

"Ghis said a few days ago, that Judges are nothing more than impartial defenders of the Empire," I said softly, my gloved hands wrapped around my knees. "I've fought so hard to be more than that, and yet, I wonder if it's futile to try. What if I'm just destined to fail?"

"And what of destiny? Its unpleasant to believe that we are pawns to fate," Gabranth answered, his thick black leather and chocobo-down coat making a noise as he shifted position. "What is fate to lose Landis? If… if Basch had stayed, would it have made any difference at all?" He paused, and I looked to him. He stared hard into the misting night air. "Am I wrong to harbor so much anger?"

I leaned a minuscule amount into the hard of his arm and shook my head, droplets of water escaping from the ramp of my bangs. "It's easy to be angry, and to hate. But it also hurts, as well."

"And how might I dissipate that anger, oh enlightened one?"

Looking down, I didn't say anything at first. I watched the water bead up on my shins and leathers and slide merrily towards my ankles, slaves to their path, and unable to change. Or could they? Were they destined to fall to the roof, and from the roof, to some unknown surface where they would shatter and break? Or could something else happen –

I reached down, and cupped my hand to my ankle like a child, gathering the tears of the heavens in my palm. I looked back up to Gabranth.

"You can choose to let the anger go, and embrace the future."

He didn't look at me, but the tension in his frame relaxed a small bit.

"A future of war, politics, fighting?"

I let the collected water go, and they spilt to the rooftop. My index finger poked him playfully.

"And me? Am I not an exciting, enticing commodity? Surely you don't keep me around for my looks," I deadpanned, pointing to the scar, "Enriching conversation I could understand, though that's readily available from Zargabaath-"

"Silence," he murmured as he wrapped a warm arm around my smaller shoulders. "You're more useful than you would think."

I don't know if he continued to brood about lost countries and lost brothers that night, but he seemed to be in a marginally better mood when we snuck back inside like teenagers and went back to my quarters.

Before I lay down to sleep beside him, I gathered the red stone to me, the one I'd received in the cave. It, as usual, pulsed with a steady thrum of energy. It hummed into my palms expectantly.

What of fate? Was I a droplet of rain, rushing headlong towards mine? Or could the Gods, seemingly not pleased with me due to my meddlesome acts, let me fall?

Such dark thoughts, I said to myself sullenly. I returned to bed, and was soothed by the steady breathing of my partner and the comfort of his scent and skin beside me.

How long will this last?

I held him close.

**Summer 39th 703ov**

I am afraid. Really, honestly, afraid. How many times have I faced death in the past year? How many times have I narrowly escaped its cold grasp? And for some reason, that is tolerable to me.

But not Drace. Never Drace.

It was Itsarik, ever perceptive, who alerted me to the suspicious activity in the southeast grand corridor last night.

"What in Gods' name would a chef be doing wandering that hallway this close to the lunch hour?" he mused, "Cutlery and all. You'd think he'd be more worried about, you know, cooking things for the council."

He was right – most odd indeed. Fully armored that day, I gripped the Strahl and made for that section of the building with Istarik and three men at my flank. Upon arrival, I sent Itsarik up ahead, as he was in plains clothes and much more stealthy than I. He came back with narrowed eyes.

"Now there are _two_ of them, puttering around the door leading to the woman's showers. Perverts, perhaps?"

We narrowed our eyes.

"Hold this," I asked, removing my helm and beginning to strip down to my underleathers. A few moments later, my sleek copper-toned armor lay piled neatly against the intricate wallpapering of the hallway wall. Looking considerably less menacing, I took my blade in hand as we peered around the corner. Far down, the two men clad in white still stood uncomfortably outside the door, and then moved hastily to the side when a few woman exited. I felt my stomach knot and I whispered –

"Its prior to the noon hour. Drace swims and does her Katas in the gym, and showers afterwards-"

I hastily let the Strahl lean against the wall and groped for Tso's crossbow and gripped the handle firmly. As I suspected, when I rounded the corner, the two men were charging inside the woman's lavatories. Drace carried a small blade round her neck, but it would not serve to protect her against two Bastieel assassins clad as cooks. I took off with a sprint down the hall, the crossbow hindering my movement with its width.

I moved inside the showers as quietly as I could. Steam was everywhere, as if the room had been turned into a sauna, and I cursed at my limited visibility. I heard more than I saw the swishing of starched cotton clothing and I aimed the crossbow into the low lighting. Drace usually kept to the left of the showers…

And then, I had no time. I had a flash of them, one gurgling from the plunged marriage blade in his sternum, the other advancing upon her.

I fired the bow, and prayed my aim was true. For a moment, my breath caught and I felt my stomach churn in apprehension.

It was the duet of bodies falling to the tile floor and the 'hmmph' of a woman's voice that urged the groan of relief from me. As if ordained by the Gods, the steam parted, and a very scantly clad Judge Magister Drace padded towards me. To be honest, I hadn't had a clue how fit she was, or to be terribly honest, femininely beautiful she was. I'm fairly certain I prefer the male over the female species, but my breath was drawn away at seeing her this way.

She walked right up to me, water still gleaming on her taught skin. She tapped the bloody blade against her palm, rivulets of crimson dripping down her wrist. She gazed at me with a smirk in her eyes.

"What do you plan on saying? Listen to my own advice?"

I shook my head and tried to calm my nerves by rubbing my face.

"Of course not. I just wish you'd be careful too," I said sincerely, pinching my brow. Perhaps it was the sincerity of my voice, or my stance, I know not. But her eyes seemed to soften, and she placed the bloody hand on my shoulder, before leaving me alone as she returned to the steam of the baths.

Perhaps she cared for me still after all.

A/N's;

It's been a while, yeah?

I took my laptop with me on vacation, planted myself at the beach in front of the ocean, and made my self listen to the FFXII score until I was in the mood to write this chapter as I tanned and sunburned into a crisp. Its been a crazy month. My car got stolen! I work 2 silly jobs as I continue to try and find a job worthy of my degree. Oh, and I beat the new Zelda and it was amaaaaazing. All of this did not contribute to this story.

However, I feel much love for these characters, and I assure you, this will be finished. And soon, as well. Thank you from the bottom of my heart to my beautiful and intelligent reviewers and their kind words, and to my readers. The end is coming fast, and I hope I get you thinking with what I've got in store. It **is **and shall **remain** cannon.

A nod to Luc Court's fantastic FFXII piece, the marriage blade. Go read it. Its fantastic.


End file.
